


How To Move (Back) To New Jersey

by gerardsjuarez



Category: My Chemical Romance, Taking Back Sunday, The Used, Thursday (US Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Explicit Sexual Content, Faked Suicide, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:07:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 38,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23901316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gerardsjuarez/pseuds/gerardsjuarez
Summary: Due to hair-related business ventures, Gerard and his family move to a creepy, rural town appropriately named Sabrina, Oregon. With no further information on this new town other than a young boy died in the house he moves into, he ends up making out with the leader of - what the locals call - 'the wrong crowd'. No matter how hard he begs, no one tells Gerard why he can't ask questions. That is until the previous occupant of his house lets him know the truth.
Relationships: Brief Bert McCracken/Mikey Way, Brief Gerard Way/Adam Lazzara, Frank Iero/Gerard Way, Past Bert McCracken/Adam Lazzara, Past Frank Iero/Bert McCracken
Comments: 14
Kudos: 59





	How To Move (Back) To New Jersey

**Author's Note:**

> The long-awaited Big Fic. I either write tiny fics or whole ass novels - no in between. I'm pretty proud of this one and I hope you like it! You can probably tell I've widened my music taste from just My Chem. Finally got off of my ass and listened to Thursday lol. 
> 
> I unofficially gift this to my girlfriend who stans this fic more than the band itself.

_ Sabrina, OR _

_ 7:09 am _

The new house was bullshit. Everything was bullshit. The room was too small, the attic smelled like weed, the basement had cryptic writing on the walls, and the bathrooms heated floors didn’t even heat up; it just made an ungodly screeching noise before the lights went out and Mikey had to flip some switches in the basement.

“This is bullshit,” Gerard grumbled, huffing as he sat on the ground. They’d been in the house for maybe two days and his mom had yet to get around to setting up the chairs. The couches and the beds? That’s all they had. They had come from a small apartment, anyway, “Everything is fucking unfriendly.”

“You should go outside.” Mikey offered, staring down at Gerard from his spot on the kitchen counter, “It smells good, at least.”

“Like pine?” He asked, considering it, “Nah. The fucking neighbors have already made noise complaints because of the music. I doubt they want to see what I look like.”

He scoffed, “The lady across from us owns the salon Mom’s working at. She keeps asking if she can meet you.”

Scrunching up his face in distaste, he said, “Maybe she likes little boys or something.”

“No!” Mikey squawked and threw a dishtowel at him, “She just wants to meet the elusive older son who never goes outside but stands creepily in front of the windows.”

Gerard fell onto his back, admitting defeat and embracing the fall colored tile, “That was  _ one time.  _ And I was watching the rain.”

After a long pause, Mikey sighed, “All it ever does is rain here.”

Oregon wasn’t entirely that bad. The drive across the US was more or less what got Gerard all edgy and tired and jet-lagged even though he hadn’t even been on a plane. It had taken them nearly a week to even get there because no one was willing to drive through the night and Mikey kept wanting to stop at tourist traps. Oregon, when he got down to it, was just plain… spooky. It rained a lot, making even the fall chill feel strange against the stark contrast of the green grass and dead leaves. There were a lot of good coffee shops, though. 

Sabrina was a bit… fucking weird. He was from a city and generally liked them so coming to a small logging community in the middle of fucking nowhere was a big change. The town always seemed to be dead, no matter what. There were maybe three people that he’d seen like, ever. He was nearly convinced that the population on the sign was more like 5 than 704. 

Gerard was just about to ask Mikey if he wanted to skip their first day of school when there was a hard knock at the door. Startled, Gerard sat up and sent a glance to Mikey. After exchanging a series of looks, Mikey put his finger on his nose and smirked.

“You can’t play nose goes with only two-” 

The great thing about their mom was that she loved to keep the door open and the screen door shut. She did it as some way to ensure that her sons got up every once and awhile, even if it was just so they didn’t make her mad for wasting perfectly good warm air. Gerard had, however, not expected to see the screen door closed that fine October morning when it was still pretty dark outside.

“Uh, hi,” the guy who knocked on the door said, scratching at his neck, “I’m Ray? Our moms work together.”

Gerard had nearly forgotten how to walk until the sane part of him realized it was rude to stare at people, “Oh! Oh, uh. Hi. Come in.” Mikey appeared at his side, “I’m - this is my - I’m Gerard.”

His brother sent him a weird look before shuffling forward to meet Ray properly, “Hi, I’m Mikey.”

“Hi!” He grinned and shook Mikey’s hand, “That’s cool. You shake hands.”

“I do.” He shrugged and motioned for Gerard to come over.

He stood next to Mikey and looked at Ray warily. He wasn’t wearing anything too out of the ordinary - just a black hoodie, some ripped jeans, and some converse - but something about him was just… familiar. Like he’d known him somewhere. But that was probably just his imagination. He’d probably remember if he knew a guy named Ray with a light brown afro. 

“Oh! Uh, sorry. I’m here to take you guys to school.” He grinned and shook his keys lightly in his hand, “I stopped by the salon to give something to my mom and your mom - Donna, right? - asked if I didn’t mind getting you guys to school, too.”

“Yeah, Donna.” Gerard replied and sighed, “Just give me a second. I’m gonna put some coffee in a thermos.”

“Alright, yeah.” He nodded awkwardly and sent a nervous glance around the house.

Gerard went back into the kitchen and stared at the floor longingly; he wished he could lay on it rather than go to school all day. Okay, not  _ all day _ . He had lucked out pretty good with the whole class ordeal. He only had 3 classes instead of 7 and thanked God every day for it.

“No, no. It’s just - do you know much about this house?” He could hear Ray say, his voice high-pitched.

Behind him, Mikey spoke, “No? We haven’t exactly gotten a lot of information from our realtor. Just that it was within our price range. Do you-”

All of the lights in the house went out as Gerard fiddled with the timer on the coffee pot. With a heavy groan, he put the lid on his thermos of coffee and grabbed the flashlight that hung on the wall. He just wanted to set the timer a little later so that the coffee wasn’t so cold when he eventually got around to it. The electricity in the house was fucking awful; he needed to get ahold of that local electrician. 

“Gerard?” Mikey’s voice asked in the darkness.

He turned on the flashlight and pointed it at the two near the front door, “Hold on a sec. I think the circuit breaker tripped again.”

“Want me to help?” He offered.

“No,” Gerard said as he went down the basement steps, “I know where it is. We’ve had to do it how many times now?”

A pause.

“Five, I think!” Mikey called down.

Gerard heard Ray say something but couldn’t tell what it was. Ray seemed nice, even if he’d known him for maybe three minutes at the most. That thought was cut off by the basement. It was half-finished and damp and Gerard’s least favorite place because it smelled like a middle school locker room. After a second of searching for this said circuit breaker, Gerard, through a few muttered swears, managed to get the lights back on.

“Everything good?!” He shouted up the steps and knew Mikey replied but didn’t hear him. 

On top of the box with the circuit breaker panel inside sat a tiny cassette player. It was one of those Panasonic ones that he was sure he had when he was about 8. He’d also had a fuck ton of cassettes at one point but ended up selling them to get a CD player. He clicked the flashlight off and stuck it in his back pocket, picking up the cassette player and examining it as he came up the stairs.

“Hey,” Gerard interrupted the conversation, “look what I found.”

“Nice! Oh, I remember when I had one of those. I used to trade tapes with my older brother.” Ray commented, “That thing looks vintage, dude. Probably worth something now, right?”

“Maybe.” Gerard shrugged and put it in his pocket, too. 

…

Ray’s car was a real… a real car, Gerard tried to think positively. It was kind of a piece of junk but it ran and smelled vaguely like caramel so Gerard really couldn’t complain. He could very well walk the few blocks to the school but did he mention that it rained in Oregon? God. He wasn’t all that excited to start this new school in particular. Kids were weird as shit in this town and when Gerard made eye contact with one at the gas station, well, it felt like they saw his darkest sins.

“Oh,” Ray commented when he looked at Gerard’s schedule, “We’ve got English together.”

“From the looks of it,” Mikey scanned his own paper, “we have lunch together.”

“And physics! I didn’t know Freshman could take that class?” Gerard looked warily at Ray who shrugged.

Ray said, “I’ve seen many freshmen place into upperclassmen subjects,” and then the bell rang and they weren’t even inside yet.

Gerard’s first period was art. He wouldn’t admit it to Mikey but he was taking art just so he started school at the same time as his brother. He wanted to make sure he got there safely.

When he walked in, everyone seemed to be in the same state as him - tired and ready to go back home. The teacher was busy at her desk and told Gerard to sit wherever he wanted. Warily, he sat next to a guy with blonde hair and a lip ring. They made eye contact and Gerard offered a sleepy smile before taking a sip of his coffee.

Art was fairly boring but he was glad it was. The guy that sat next to him was pretty quiet, didn’t say much other than a handful of questions like ‘are you new?’ and ‘pass the pencils?’. Gerard was fine with that. At the end of the class, though, the guy stood between him and the quick escape that he wanted.

“I’m Bob, by the way.” He shrugged, “What class do you have next?”

“Gerard and English.” He responded, “12th grade English.”

“Cool.” Bob replied, “I have that, too.”

And then they walked to English together because Gerard had zero clue where it was. Bob looked at Gerard’s schedule while they made their way to the classroom, not looking up once and pointing out the classes they had together. 

Ray waved them over to a spot by the windows and beamed when he set his eyes upon Gerard’s newfound friend, “I see that Bob took to you.”

Bob grunted in response and sat down in front of Ray. 

Gerard sat in the seat next to him, “We have art together.”

“I know,” Ray grinned, “I texted him.”

“Do you have a cell phone?” Bob asked Gerard.

Gerard barely had enough time to say yes before Ray was making him write his number on their arms.

His next period was Algebra 2, which,  _ yeah _ , he shouldn’t really be in but math wasn’t his strong suit. He was better at art. The teacher was this angry looking redhead who greeted Gerard with a packet of missing work he needed to make up before the end of the quarter. After that pleasant experience, she sent him to the only available desk next to a fit guy with frosted tips.

They exchanged a glance.

Things would be better if he could be invisible, he thought to himself. The lesson droned on, though, and the guy next to him didn’t pay him any attention. The teacher wasn’t as angry as she had been at the start of class, talking excitedly about square roots and imaginary numbers. 

When the bell rang, everyone shot up to gather their things and get to lunch or their next class. Gerard bolted up like the rest of his class but started to go the opposite direction that the guy next to him was going and bumped into him. The guy just pushed past Gerard as he felt the coffee from his thermos soak into his clothes and drip from his fingers. 

“Oh,” he said to himself, disgusted.

He could hear snickering near him and decided it was better to leave the crime scene instead of staring at it like the coffee was possessed and attacked Gerard. 

His expression turned stone cold, grabbing his things and storming off to lunch. He met Mikey by the main doors and the two of them found Bob and Ray with a few other unfamiliar faces sitting at a table in the far corner of the room. 

Pissily, Gerard texted one of his friends back in Jersey about the asshole in class and the coffee debacle. He didn’t feel like unloading on people he barely knew and his brother who was smiling brightly, genuinely having a good time. Gerard’s self-pity didn’t last, though, because a girl with a red smile and friendly eyes sat next to him, first addressing Ray before turning to him.

“What’s up your ass?” She asked bluntly.

Gerard stared at her. She was really pretty, “Coffee.”

She snorted, “I can smell. I’m Lindsey.”

“Gerard,” he nearly shook her hand before sighing, “I have coffee hands.”

Lindsey lifted an eyebrow at that but shrugged, “I’ll shake your hand some other time, then.”

“For the best, yeah.”

…

“Are you sure? I could easily miss the first five minutes of calculus.” Ray offered, shaking his keys pointedly.

Gerard rolled his eyes, “I’m fine. My brother needs a ride more than anyone, though. Plus, I… I just need some time alone, if I’m honest.” 

Ray blinked, “Oh! Oh, yeah…” he drew out sadly, “I heard from Lindsey that some kid ran into you?”

“Yeah, I accidentally spilled coffee on myself.” Gerard scratched at his neck and shrugged, “I’m good, though.”

“That’s good, I guess.”

“Uh, how did Lindsey know that?” He asked as an afterthought.

He snickered, “She sits right behind you.”

“Oh.” He flushed.  _ How had he not noticed that? _

“She can be elusive when he wants to be. I’d suggest being friends with her, dude.” He leaned in close, “She’s a real hardass. She once punched a kid’s face in because he called her a slut.”

Gerard’s eyes went wide and he leaned in, too, “Woah, really?”

“Yeah.” Ray leaned back, grinning, “She’s the captain of the softball team, too. If anyone messes with you like that again, just ask her to fix it and she will. She is experienced hardcore in dealing with fuckers.”

He nodded thoughtfully, “Shit, yeah. Yeah. Um, well. Thanks for driving me and Mikey to school and stuff. I really appreciate it. Mikey and I… well. Yeah. Just. Thanks.”

“No problem, man. Same time tomorrow?” He gestured with his keys again but this time, a little more positively.

“Oh! Yeah, man. Thanks.”

Gerard still felt pretty shitty as he made his way back home. His shoes stuck to the ground and he could feel his hair drying in sticky, coffee curls. How the fuck the coffee had made its way there, he didn’t want to know. He decided to go to the local convenience store to sulk a little longer but this time with a fountain drink. 

Like any small business, everything but the one-dollar large fountain drinks were overpriced. Gerard had gone to the small produce area to see that the cherries he had been eyeing were extremely out of his budget and sauntered over to the checkout lane to awkwardly tell the guy that he wanted a soda. He didn’t talk much, just scanned a card, handed him the empty cup, and took Gerard’s crumpled dollar bill with a muffled, “Thanks, have a nice day.”

He zoned out, staring at his vague reflection in the Coke advertisement on the soda machine. He was a mess. He felt like a mess but his branded reflection just proved the fact. With a sigh, he put ice into his cup and got diet Dr. Pepper, admitting defeat. His day had been shitty. He just wanted one good thing and if he had to find that in the form of diet soda and blaring Black Flag till his ears bled, well, then he was going to do just that.

When he exited the hole-in-the-wall convenience store, he stopped dead in his tracks. Some guy was standing alone in the parking lot, leaning against his beat-up van. Normally, Gerard wouldn’t stop and stare but he honestly couldn’t help it. The guy had style. 

He blew smoke out of the corner of his mouth, “You look like you have a date with death.”

“Feels like it.” Gerard replied, taking a drink, “You look like you belong in a poorly lit club.”

He erupted into a fit of giggles and gestured for Gerard to come closer, putting his cigarette in the corner of his mouth and offering out his fist, “The name’s Adam.”

Awkwardly, they bumped fists, “I’m Gerard. Can I bum one?”

Adam definitely was a part of some type of music scene, Gerard could tell. He had the ripped jeans, tight t-shirt, and jean jacket complete with pins. He grinned and handed over a smoke and a lighter, “You not from around here?”

“Can you tell?” He asked as he lit up.

“Yeah,” Adam took back his lighter, “I think it’s the vacant look in your eyes.”

Gerard shook his head and exhaled, “I just moved here from Jersey. You know that old house on Cherry street?”

He paused, cigarette near his lips, “Shit, really?”

“Uh, yeah?” He shrugged, “The house is pretty shit, to be honest. The power keeps going out.”

“Yeah, old houses.” Adam said weirdly, giving Gerard a once-over before putting out his cigarette, “I know I’m a creepy guy with a van but do you wanna get outta here? I’m supposed to meet my friends at the cemetery for a listening party.”

Gerard blinked, “A what?”

“Listening party,” he smiled politely, “Basically, me and a few friends are gonna listen to some music in the cemetery. It’s pretty fucking emo but it’s really fun.”

“Listening party,” Gerard repeated. A cute guy with a van was asking him to come to the cemetery with him. He should probably stay in town, go back home, and wait for Mikey to get off of school, “Yeah. I’ll go. Promise you won’t skin me alive?”

“Aww, but you’ve got such a pretty face.” Adam chuckled, “You can smoke in the van, come on.”

The inside of the van was a little more comfortable than the outside. In the back were a few boxes and a guitar. Spilling out of the boxes were various pieces of clothing, mostly t-shirts. When he turned up the radio, Gerard didn’t recognize the song.

“How long have you lived in Sabrina?” Gerard asked lamely, finishing his cigarette.

“Since I was ten. Moved here from the east coast, too, actually.” He paused, “Do you miss it?”

“Yeah.” He admitted.

Adam sent him a quick sympathetic glance before keeping his eyes on the road, “It gets better within the first few months, honest. Oregon may smell less like a factory but they’re pretty similar.”

Gerard thought for a moment, taking a drink, “We don’t have to pump our own gas.”

“Ha!” He laughed, caught off guard with the joke inside the sincerity. Gerard felt a little bit better about hopping into his van, “That’s the spirit.”

The cemetery wasn’t big and sat on the edge of town, looking, well,  _ gloomy _ in the overcast afternoon. Adam parked his van on the side of the road, almost making a point of not parking in the cemetery. Gerard had to admit, the town had a certain ambiance. The cemetery was atop a hill that led down a path of winding roads, the yellow lines popping out in stark contrast with the overhanging trees on each side of the road. His thoughts about exploring the town were interrupted by the squeak of the cemetery gates and Adam’s expectant expression as he held them open.

Gerard touched the steel gates and stared at the rainwater on his hands as he followed Adam. The tombstones didn’t look young - cracked and moss-covered - but didn’t exactly look unloved either. He nearly nodded at a statue of an eroded angel in mourning to express that he knew it existed. God, his mind worked weirdly sometimes. He covered up his said thoughts by looking straight ahead at Adam’s back and taking drinks off of his soda.

After a sharp turn past a massive mausoleum, Gerard came face to face with Adam’s friends, sitting and drinking and smoking and seemingly having a good time. The laughter died down when they set their eyes on Gerard. He could understand.

Adam nodded toward his friends and Gerard took a step closer, “Hi.”

“Hi,” one of them replied, doing a girly finger wave with a skeleton-gloved hand, “Uh, Adam?”

“This is Gerard. He’s from Jersey. He lives on Cherry Street.” He spouted off information and his friends seemed pleased.

“Cherry street, huh? My house is like… the 2nd? The 2nd one on that street.” Skeleton Gloves stood up and offered Gerard a cigarette in place of a handshake. He took it, “I’m Frank and I’m also from Jersey.”

“Christ, is this town full of people who are from the east coast?” Gerard asked, looking over to Adam’s other friend who seriously looked like he belonged in Simple Plan, “Are you?”

“No, I’m from Missouri,” he shrugged, “James, by the way.”

“Hi,” Gerard said again because he didn’t really know what to say. To distract himself, he lit up the cigarette he’d been given.

Frank, still on his feet, came closer to Gerard. Close enough to where Gerard took a step back so he didn’t go cross-eyed looking at him.

“Dude,” he said giddily, “are you wearing  _ eyeliner _ ?”

He blushed and tried to hide his face in his hair, “No,”

“Frankie-” Adam tried but he just made a weird hand movement at him, not taking his eyes off of Gerard.

“No, dude - Gerard, right? - I’m not making fun of you! I think it’s fucking  _ awesome _ .” 

He looked up and saw that Frank was beaming at him. All the compliments and comments he got on his appearance were rude. He was being sincere. 

Surprised, he asked, “You do?” 

“Only because now he isn’t the only one in town who does.” James snickered, “He used to wear eyeliner, eyeshadow - the whole shit, y’know?”

“He used to look like an extra from Rocky Horror.” Adam agreed, nodding.

Frank smacked his arm but looked playful, “Shut the fuck up and sit down. We’ve been waiting for your ass for like 20 minutes.”

“I was late because I brought someone.”

Everyone stared at Gerard. He coughed on his exhale and turned even pinker in the face.

“Guess I can excuse it this once.” Frank grinned.

Adam’s friends were actually really awesome. They liked some of Gerard’s favorite bands and introduced him to a couple west coast groups that he wasn’t familiar with. When they didn’t know about one of his favorite bands, they immediately made a list of things Gerard needed to ‘culture them on’.

There was a lot of banter, cigarettes, and mysterious energy drinks that were shared. The drinks had come from the inside pocket of James’ jacket but were somehow still fairly cold. An eerie glow was upon the cemetery then as the sun began to set. Frank sat forward, passing a half-smoked cigarette to Gerard. It was supposedly a really good brand from Scotland but Gerard just thought they tasted pretty average. He hadn’t shared with anyone else. Gerard tried not to read into it.

He leaned forward to take it from him but paused as something fell out of his hoodie pocket. Strangely, Frank picked up the object and put the cigarette between Gerard’s lips without looking. Gerard sent Adam a glance but he just shrugged in reply. 

He sat back, “ _ Shit _ , where did you get this?”

Gerard stared at it. In Frank’s hands was a cassette tape in its box, “I don’t… remember?” 

“This thing is super rare!” Frank exclaimed, showing off the case to everyone else. Gerard caught a glimpse of the Misfits skull before Frank turned it back around, “I’ve really only seen this in pictures. And… well, I had a friend that had a copy of this.”

Adam looked over his shoulder, “Oh, fuck. Remember? He wouldn’t let any living being touch it.”

“I heard a rumor that he once broke a kid’s arm because he looked at it for too long.” Frank marveled, not looking up from it until something struck him, “You seriously don’t remember where you got this?”

Gerard shook his head, “I honestly don’t remember. I had Misfits tapes back in the day but… it’s been a long time. Maybe I put it in this hoodie a few years ago and just had forgotten.”

“Some thing to forget.” James scoffed, looking at the tape, too.

Gerard looked warily between all of them and scratched the back of his head, “Yeah, I guess.”

James looked Gerard up and down before asking, “Do you have a tape player?”

He responded by taking the Walkman out of his back pocket where it had been for the majority of the day. He hoped he hadn’t broken it by sitting on it. That would’ve been awkward as hell. Soon enough, they were all crowded around the tiny walkman knockoff, listening to the Misfits through the shitty built-in speaker.

…

Gerard left the cemetery with a few more phone numbers than planned and a smile on his face. He would’ve stayed longer but James got a text from his roommate that seemed like an emergency but Frank had whispered that it was probably about Chinese takeout and not a problem with the sink. Everyone piled into Adam’s van and one by one, they were all dropped off at their respective houses. Frank really did live pretty close to Gerard. He made a mental note to maybe hang out with him from time to time.

When Adam parked in front of Gerard’s house, he got out to look up at it. It wasn’t amazing or anything. It had just turned 100 about a month ago, so it was pretty old but it wasn’t… get-out-of-the-van-and-stare-up-at-it worthy. Gerard was feeling a little jittery from all the cigarettes he smoked so he just watched Adam when he lit up.

He looked sort of tired, leaning against the van with a weird look in his eyes. He flicked the ash off his cigarette, "Did you have fun? My friends seemed pretty into you."

"Some more than others," Gerard mumbled, causing him to laugh. He ignored Adam's giggles, "But I did, yeah."

There was a pause. 

Adam flicked the smoke out of his hand and ground it out with his heel. He leaned toward Gerard after a second, "Do you wanna make out?"

Gerard blinked. He looked at the lit window of Mikey’s bedroom and back to Adam, "Right now?"

"I don't know," he kept eye contact. "Only if you want to."

"I don't know if I want to.” He admitted, “I met you a few hours ago."

Adam leaned back, "I suppose that's valid." Visibly, he thought before saying, “I just wanna… feel something, y’know? Y’know when you just get the urge to? The urge to kiss someone?”

He knew the feeling too well but didn’t want to dwell on it so early in the night. Instead, he looked down at the pavement for a second before shrugging, “That’s either loneliness or a lack of masturbation.”

With a snort, he said, “Who’s to say that they aren’t one and the same?”

They were very close. 

Gerard kissed him.

It wasn’t world-stopping by any means. Gerard was used to being more emotionally attached to people before he kissed them but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a  _ pretty good _ kiss. His hands cupped Gerard’s face and Adam, in general, was just so - so  _ warm _ . All the tension left his body the moment he opened his mouth and Adam deepened the kiss. It didn’t last nearly as long as it should’ve because, from the porch, a voice called out to Gerard.

“Gee!” 

It was Mikey.

With a sigh, Gerard broke the kiss and tried to convey to Adam that he wanted to do that again. Uh, sometime. 

“Go on,” he smiled. “Why don’t I come over Wednesday? You could… show me your room or something.”

He nodded, “Yeah, yeah. Wednesday.”

“Gerard!” Mikey’s voice grew angry.

“I know!” He yelled back before turning to Adam, “Bye.”

In Gerard’s room, the two listened to the Misfits tape on Mikey’s old boombox. They didn’t say anything for a long time. Mikey was probably gearing up to ask a loaded question. He usually did when he was quiet for long periods of time. He got up from the beanbag in the corner to sit next to Gerard on his bed.

“Can I crash here tonight?” He asked, looking nervous.

“Yeah,” Gerard frowned, moving to rub Mikey’s shoulder, “Is everything okay?”

He nodded, “I just can’t sleep. My room is too fucking cold. I think my heater is broken.”

“Everything in this house is broken.” Gerard sympathized.

There was a pause.

“How do you do it, Gee?” He sighed, leaning against Gerard’s shoulder.

“Do what?”

“Get a boyfriend in one day.” He shrugged.

After a terrible squawking sound, Gerard said, “Adam is  _ not _ my boyfriend. I met him after school. He invited me to hang out with his friends and I… well he wanted to makeout.”

“Hmm.” Mikey said, “How old is he?”

“He graduated a few years ago.” Gerard paused, “Why?”

He sighed, “I just want to make sure you’re being careful.”

With a chuckle, he said, “I am, don’t worry. He’s coming over Wednesday.”

“To do what?”

Gerard ignored him, “Oh my God, he’s coming over Wednesday!”

…

Somehow, Gerard had convinced Mikey to go to CVS with him. Their mom was taking an after-work nap and that left the brothers to steal her car and drive to the nearest CVS scott free. Mikey had, of course, complained  _ a lot _ when Gerard explained why he needed to go to the pharmacy in the first place.

“I thought that you  _ had _ that sort of thing.” He hissed on the porch, Donna’s car keys in hand.

“That’s kind of you to think that I get out much but I really don’t.” Gerard snorted, “I just wanna be prepared if things… take that route.”

He wasn’t really known for being some kind of player who hooked up with cute guys to pass time but he wasn’t a complete and utter loser either, y’know? He’d lost his virginity at a Christian summer camp his Junior year, actually. It had been really weird but the guy was willing and Gerard was a sucker for accents. 

The CVS was dimly lit and the dark sky around them didn’t help his anxiety of buying fucking condoms and lube at a fucking  _ CVS _ . If he was cool enough, he could’ve snagged something from Spencer’s the last time he was there but then again, he hadn’t thought that far in the future. Not even a psychic would’ve guessed that Gerard would potentially get it with some club-scene hottie named Adam that he just-so-happened to run into in the parking lot of a convenience store. His life was so weird.

Mikey fucked off to where all the candy was so he could browse KitKats and pretend his brother wasn’t there to buy what he was going to buy. Gerard, as awkward and as suspicious as ever, walked down the aisles to find the one he needed. He never understood why it was awkward; sex was a normal thing that people did. Really, people should be thanking him for practicing safe sex. But he was still young and still accepting himself as is so really any mention of sex outside of the act made him… want to die. Especially when he had to explain to his brother that he was sexually attracted to the guy he was kissing outside of his house the night before.

He gently kicked at a display before taking a deep breath and heading straight for what he needed. But when he looked up, Frank was there. He barely recognized him at first, decked in an oversized hoodie, but then his eyes caught the skeleton gloves. He took a step closer, ready to start a conversation when he saw what the skeleton gloved hands were holding.

A pregnancy test.

“Uh,” Gerard said, tongue stuck on the ‘hello’ he so desperately wanted to say.

Frank’s eyes shot up and he looked like he’d seen a ghost, “Oh, fuck.”

He gave Frank a weird look, “Hi?”

“Uh, hi, Gerard.” He looked at what he was holding, “This - this isn’t for me.”

“Obviously,” Gerard replied, trying to make light of the moment but he wasn’t having it.

“It’s for - uh? I didn’t knock anyone up, I promise!” He took a step back, “I’m not like that, y’know? I’m chronically single, anyway. Um? Why do I keep talking?”

There was a small pause before Gerard said, very softly, “Are you okay?”

The look on Frank’s face was that of pure surprise - like no one had ever asked him that before - until it fell, defeated and very, very tired looking, “No. I’m buying this for my mom.”

He took a step forward, “Is everything alright?”

“She’s… she’s just worried.” Frank looked warily over his shoulder, “I really shouldn’t lay this on you, man.”

He gave Frank a small, genuine smile, “I don’t mind.”

Frank studied him for a second before carding a hand through his hair and sighing, “I can’t tell if you’re really this sweet or not, God.” He huffed, “I guess… well, my mom started seeing this guy but they broke up pretty recently, right? And she called me crying, telling me her period was late and - and I got really concerned, y’know?”

Gerard nodded.

“So, I convinced her to let me do something - anything and she sent me here.” He stared down at the box with a blank expression, “She can barely afford rent this month, she can’t afford a baby.”

“Shit.” Gerard breathed, “Uh, how would you feel if I… if I paid for it?”

His head shot up, “Wait, for real? You’d do that? Fuck, man, I barely know you.”

“It’s cool. I wanna do it.” He shrugged, “How much is it?”

Twisting the box around, he found a bright orange sticker, “On sale for 5 bucks.”

“Alright,” Gerard grabbed his wallet from his back pocket and yanked out a five.

“Are you sure, dude?” Frank asked, looking past Gerard anxiously. 

“Listen,” he pointedly shook the bill in his hand until Frank took it, “you’re gonna take the money and fuck off, okay?”

Finally, Frank’s face broke out into a grin, “Fucking  _ fine _ .”

Gerard watched him walk past him with a smile until Frank turned around slowly.

He moved the hand that had the box in it and avoided eye contact, “Uh. Thanks. Like, I owe you one.”

“It’s nothing.” He waved it away, “I’ll see you around.”

He hid his smile behind his glove, “Yeah. See yah.”

Gerard made sure that Frank had left the CVS before he snagged what he needed, narrowly avoiding Mikey’s line of sight, and leaving the store altogether. 

When Gerard got home that night, he sat on the edge of the bed, trying his best not to wake Mikey. It was all so weird. He’d only lived in the town for a few days and he already had some kind of makeout buddy? God, who knew. He often overthought things and this was probably one of those things. Still, it was good to have condoms and lube on hand, should they ever be used in the far future. 

He’d tried really hard to buy products that didn’t have obnoxious labels. He bought some boring black packages with dull lettering so it didn’t scream ‘I use this to get off!!’ if his mom were to look through his things. He took the orange stickers off of them and put them in his bedside drawer.

Behind him, Mikey asked in a tired, scratchy voice, “What are those for?”

With the bottle of lube still in hand, he turned around, “You know what they’re-”

Mikey was dead asleep, his mouth open and hair a mess.

“Huh.” He said weirdly, “Mikey?”

Nothing.

Gerard wrote it off as him talking in his sleep and put the bottle in the drawer before turning off the lamp and crawling into bed next to him.

…

In English, Ray talked his ear off about some band that was playing in Portland. They were apparently very theatrical and were around their age. Gerard was interested but didn’t really like going to concerts where he knew nothing about the band. This comment, however, prompted Ray to tell him everything from their early days as a band to their rumored future plans. Bob, to his credit, started drawing on his arm in Sharpie, ignoring the conversation with a certain skill.

“Oh! What if we came over after school? I could bring their album with me.” Ray asked, kicking at Bob’s leg.

“I don’t have anything planned,” Bob replied, continuing to draw a sword on his forearm.

“Maybe tomorrow? I have a friend coming over tonight.” Gerard rubbed at his arm, still feeling weird about the whole ordeal.

“Who?” Bob asked, looking up. He looked surprised that Gerard was capable of making friends by himself.

“Uh, his name is Adam? I don’t know his last name.” He shrugged, “We met at the convenience store.”

Ray’s eyes went wide and shared a look with Bob. Gerard frowned, confused and about to ask what the deal was when Ray asked, “Does he have a van?”

“Do you know him?” He asked hopefully. Maybe if he got information out of someone, he’d be better equipped to handle the situation that was Adam.

Another look was shared, “How long have you two known each other?”

Gerard didn’t know why he felt like he was being interrogated. He scoffed, “Um? Not very long. When I met him, he invited me to hang out with him and his friends in the cemetery.”

“So that means he’s met James and Frank.” Bob sighed, turning away from Ray to look at him, “Those guys are bad news, Gerard, seriously.”

“They are? They were super nice to me when we hung out. Frank especially.” He decided not to add the whole part about their moment in CVS the night before. No one else but him had to know about that. If his mom was going through something, he wouldn’t want anyone else to know.

“Fuck, okay.” Ray pulled at his hair, “You have so much to learn about this town, seriously.”

At the same time Gerard said, “What the hell does that mean?” the bell rang for the next period.

Ray stood up, quickly gathering his things, “It’s not something I can explain in a five minute passing period.”

“Can you at least try?” Gerard hedged but Ray was already out the door. 

He huffed dramatically and startled when Bob put his hand on his shoulder, “He hates to talk about it.” 

“I just wanna know what  _ it _ is!” Gerard groaned, “Whatever. Just tell him to text me or whatever.”

Bob winced, “It’s… not really a text conversation.”

“Okay, fine.” He waved it away and let Bob out the door before him, mumbling under his breath, “Both of you be difficult, that’s fine.”

When he sat down in Algebra, the guy next to him gave Gerard a penetrating side-eye that made his skin crawl. He merely took out his notes and his calculator, trying to rub off the Sharpie that had yet to leave his fingers. 

The rest of the class went pretty fucking awesome, though, because as soon as the lesson started, the pretty girl from lunch kicked the back of Gerard’s chair.

Lindsey - now that he could remember - was grinning, big and bright, a piece of folded paper in her hand. It took him a second to register that she was giving it to him and he took it with a tiny smile. He turned back to his desk so he didn’t get yelled at and opened up the paper, immediately grinning like a fucking idiot.

_ Can I shake your hand yet or did you find another excuse? - Lyn-Z _

He covered his smile with his hand and tried his best to compose himself, writing a reply, closing the paper, and handing it back to her without looking.

_ I suddenly don’t have hands - G _

He heard her chuckle and the sound of her pencil on the paper. The teacher was doing some sort of problem on the board but Gerard was in no way capable of paying attention now.

There was a tap on his chair and he reached back to grab the paper from her.

_ What a shame. I was going to invite you to have lunch with me in the library but I guess you need hands to eat… - Lyn-Z _

God, he hoped that no one saw him fucking blushing at a piece of paper.

_ Oh, look! My hands came back. - G _

They went on like that for the rest of the class talking about nothing and everything and Gerard almost got caught laughing a few times. She apparently usually ate lunch in the library with two other friends and seemed Gerard fit enough to join the team. 

Narrowly avoiding running into the same guy on the way out of class, he quickly went to Lindsey’s side. After what he heard about her being able to beat the shit out of people, he was seriously sticking to her like glue. She led him all the way to the lunch line without saying a word.

Surprisingly, she immediately grabbed his hand and grinned, “You actually have really nice hands.” She casually said, “As an artist, that didn’t sound all that weird in my head but out loud it definitely does.”

“No.” He shrugged and looked at her hands, “You have nice hands, too. I like the red nail polish.”

Lindsey looked up briefly before looking back down at their hands, brushing her thumb over Gerard’s pointer finger, “You honestly rock the Sharpie.”

He’d been trying really hard to fight off the blush but he really couldn’t help it. Lindsey was fucking charming, “Thanks…” 

Ray and Bob took his absence pretty well because when they passed their table, they were making terrible leering faces and he was only half sure Bob wasn’t saying something sleazy.

The library was totally different from the cafeteria in the best way possible. It was quiet, mostly, with a little bit of restless chatter located only at two tables: Lindsey’s table and a group of kids crowded around a computer. At her table was a girl with brown hair and pinkish-blonde streaks. She was tapping rhythmically on the table before she made eye contact with Lindsey, immediately perking up and smiling. Gerard watched as her gaze came over to him, looking him up and down briefly before snagging another chair from a nearby table. 

When the two of them sat down, she introduced herself, “Hey! I’m Jennifer.”

Lindsey leaned over, “We call her Kitty, though.”

“Oh,” he said, “Well, it’s nice to meet you Kitty-Jennifer.”

…

“You’re starting to sound like you’re in love.” Mikey snorted, nose deep in his gameboy.

He’d been all over Mikey the minute he got home because, well, he didn’t exactly want to go gushing about Lindsey and her friends to Adam. And after what happened in CVS, Gerard was constantly saving text message drafts, wondering how the fuck he would even open up a conversation with Frank.  _ Is your mom okay? Are you okay? Do you believe in God?  _ Nothing seemed right. So… Mikey could muscle up and deal with some very stupid gushing.

“I’m not in love.” He huffed, “She’s just really cool. And so are her friends. They don’t make fun of me as much or say weird backhanded things like Ray and Bob.” 

Who had yet to tell him exactly why the fuck he couldn’t hang out with Adam, Frank, or James, he didn’t say. He’d tried to weasel something out of Lindsey or Kitty but as far as he got was Kitty saying, “Wait, not Frank  _ Iero _ , right?” before Lindsey directed the conversation to something on her iPod.

And it was just so fucking weird! The way everyone was acting about them as if they had died or whatever and came back as some flesh-eating zombies or some shit. If anything, the real reason might be because they smoke pot or something and the locals deemed that as bad news. Gerard wasn’t easily influenced by that sort of thing anyway. Okay, well, he had picked up smoking from his mom but that didn’t count!

“Do you not like them anymore?” Mikey raised a brow, looking up.

“No, that’s not-” Gerard crossed his arms and groaned, “I’m just frustrated right now. It’s not their fault.”

Surprisingly, Mikey turned off his gameboy, “What’s wrong?”

Gerard shifted awkwardly in his bean bag chair, “Everyone keeps telling me to like, not hang out with Adam. And today, Kitty got shocked because Frank might be the dreaded Frank Iero, whoever that is.”

He shrugged, “Maybe they did something fucked up in the past.”

“Maybe.” He sighed, agreeing.

Mikey looked at his phone, “Alright, I’m gonna head out. Some sophomore named Pete invited me to go egg the principal's car and it’s parked outside of the bar. Tell Adam I said hi.” He smirked, getting up.

Gerard nearly turned scarlet, “I will not!”

He was just about to make himself comfortable in his stupid bean bag chair when he heard some commotion on the stairs followed by Mikey yelling, “They’re on their way up!” while aggressive footsteps went up the stairs.

“They?” Gerard called back but his question was soon answered when Adam and Frank entered his bedroom. He was somewhere between standing up and sitting down and he knew that he looked fucking weird but he just looked up at them, shocked, “Uh, hi.”

“Hey,” Frank grinned and immediately sat down next to Gerard on the bean bag chair, close but not unwanted.

“Not expecting both of us?” Adam asked, leaning on the wall near him.

Gerard looked between them. Adam looked calm and collected while Frank was all giant grins and squinted eyes. Carefully, he said, “Well, when you said you were coming over, you never mentioned another person.”

“Hmm. Guess I didn’t.” He shrugged, “We can kick Frankie out, if you want.”

“No!” He said a lot faster than he had meant to, turning red, “Frank - uh,  _ Frankie _ can stay.”

“Aww, thanks.” He said in a weird voice.

Gerard watched Adam put down the small bag he had over his shoulder and start to dig through it. His thoughts of  _ what the fuck is he getting out _ were interrupted when he turned his head toward Frank. He’d wanted to ask what was up with the bag but when he followed Frank’s gaze, Gerard saw that he was looking at his bed. Or, more than likely, the bedside table. The labels were inconspicuous enough but that didn’t mean Frank didn’t know what they were.

It was really weird to make eye contact with Frank when he was sitting so fucking close. The only person that had ever sat so close that their leg was practically on top of Gerard’s was his brother. But Frank was a weird guy. He could manage before Frank found out his fucking secrets.

He leaned in even closer, a smirk on his face, “Were you expecting someone?”

Gerard’s face felt hot. He looked away, “No. I forgot to put them away.”

“Hmm,” Frank said and Gerard looked up. He had a strange look in his eye, “I bet.”

“Alright! And Gerard,” Adam announced that he was still in the room, standing up and pulling Gerard up from his spot next to Frank. He was pleasantly shocked when Adam kissed him hard on the mouth, “How are you?”

He felt a little more exposed than he had that night against Adam’s van, “I’m good,” he admitted in a timid voice.

“You look good.” He replied, “Do you believe in an afterlife?”

Gerard felt like he had whiplash, “What?”

Behind him, he could hear Frank stand up, “How about I rephrase that?”

Adam stepped away from Gerard, “Go on.”

“So, basically, we think that your house is haunted. Okay, no, we  _ know _ it’s haunted.” He grimaced, “Do you want the shortened version of why we think that, or?”

“Whatever you’re willing to tell me.” Gerard managed to keep his voice steady, eyes wide. 

He’d known that his house was fucking rude and unfriendly and a bitch late at night but never had he considered it was  _ haunted _ and now that he thought about it… it made sense. The creaking floorboards, the noises he wrote off as Mikey being up late at night, the rugs that weren’t ruffled when he first passed them in the pitch black… 

“Well, the reason that this house is like so cheap and shit is because someone… died here.” Frank laughed nervously.

“What?” He blinked.

“What I’m trying to say is that a late classmate of ours lived here before he died and we think his ghost still haunts this place.” He explained with a gentle smile, “And I brought some stuff to talk to him.”

Gerad looked to Adam, “My bag, his stuff.” 

Frank rolled his eyes, “Adam doesn’t even believe that - that our friend has a ghost.”

“I’m open to discovery, though.” He shrugged and slid an arm around Gerard, “You’ve seen him, though, haven’t you, Frankie?”

“I, uh,” Frank’s eyes went a little wide, “I have, yeah. When the house was empty, about 3 months after everyone moved out, I saw him standing and staring out the window.”

Gerard’s mouth fell open, “Shit.”

“I didn’t believe it was him but when I blinked… he wasn’t there.” He shuddered, “It still gives me goosebumps.”

Adam ignored Frank’s spookiness, “So where are we starting?”

Frank pursed his lips and looked to Gerard, “What place makes you the most uncomfortable?”

“The basement.” Gerard said automatically, “I have to go down there almost every day to turn the power back on. That’s where I found my tape player, actually.”

The two exchanged a look. 

“The Misfits tape,” Frank said.

“It…” Gerard gasped, “It just appeared in my fucking pocket!”

So! We’re going to the basement.” Adam pulled Gerard along by the hand, interrupting quite a sobering revelation.

The ghost hunting proved to be a total loss. The EMF reader that Frank had wasn’t trustworthy because of all the electrical stuff, the spirit box was radio silence except for a simple ‘what?’ when Frank called Gerard a tease, and the ouija board stayed eerily still no matter the questions asked.

Gerard did feel watched the whole time they tried to contact this friend of theirs but tried to write it off as nothing more than his imagination. Mostly because when he looked up, it was just Frank who usually looked away when their eyes met.

Before they left, Adam grabbed Gerard for some kind of goodbye makeout while Frank stood awkwardly by. It was nice and Gerard really enjoyed the gesture but he would like it more if they didn’t have an audience. He was sort of glad that Adam hadn’t come alone for several reasons.

Adam was putting the ghost paraphernalia in the van while Frank and Gerard stood on the porch. Gerard could see Mikey walking home from a few blocks away, texting on his phone in the lamplight. 

“So,” he started, “you and Adam, huh?”

Gerard blinked, “I think so. I’m not really sure.”

“Oh?”

“He asked if I’d kiss him after we went to the cemetery. I didn’t know it would be like a daily thing.” He shrugged, “I don’t mind. He’s cute.”

“I thought so, too, but the most he’ll ever do is makeout. So, uh,” he leaned in close, “keep that stuff in your drawer.”

“Ugh,” Gerard hid his face in his hands, “I wish you hadn’t seen that. I don’t even know how it got out in the first place. I remember putting it in the drawer… last night.”

Frank wiggled his eyebrows at him.

“Oh, shut up.” He bumped him playfully and Frank broke out into a grin.

“Let’s go, Frankie!” Adam called from the van.

“In a sec!” He turned back to Gerard and very gently, touched his wrist, “She’s negative. My mom.”

Gerard beamed, “That’s amazing, Frankie, really.”

“I’ve never been so happy to hear that my mom is menstruating.” He chuckled and looked down at where Gerard’s wrist was in contact with his hand, “I seriously gotta make it up to you, man, what you did for us. Why don’t we like, fuck, I don’t know… get slushies or something?”

Gerard sent a look to the van, “Just us?”

“Yeah, just us.” His smile fell, “Is that okay?”

“Perfect. Uh, fine.” Gerard pulled away so they weren’t touching anymore, seeing Mikey walk up the driveway, “Text me?”

“Frank!” Adam, called again, more aggressively.

“Yeah, I will.” He sped off toward the van, “Calm your tits, Lazzara!”

…

Mikey didn’t seem surprised when Gerard told him all about the visit from the moment he left to the moment he came home. He did leave out the whole part about Frank’s mom again because, like before, it wasn’t his business. He seemed pretty interested in the ghost hunting part even though they didn’t make any progress other than a ‘what?’. Gerard didn’t really believe it was a spirit talking through the box unless it was more than one syllable word.

“Yeah, I get that.” Mikey said, “But why did Frank call you a tease?”

“Oh. I took off my hoodie and my shirt came up a bit.”

“Hmm.” He said and then the conversation ended.

Well, sort of. Gerard went on to babble about how Adam was some kind of ‘I only like to makeout’ guy which, to be fair, Gerard respected and appreciated because the thought of doing anything else with Adam was a little unsettling. He prattled on and on about the conversation with Frank on the porch (leaving out the whole baby scare) and how they were going to get slushies sometime without Adam.

He’d looked up at that, “Did he specifically say that?”

“Say what?”

“That it would just be the two of you.”

Gerard shifted, confused, “Yeah?”

“Hmm,” he said again the same way he had before and went back to his magazine, “Interesting.”

“No, don’t do that!” Gerard flung himself on the bed, half on top of Mikey, “You’re so difficult.”

“And you’re a heartbreaker, Gee.” He said affectionately, petting his head.

His eyes went wide, “Oh, you don’t think…?”

Mikey shrugged, “I don’t know. I’m not Frank.”

“Oh.” He repeated. He didn’t want to think about that, “So how’d it go with Pete?”

A slow smile spread on his face, “Fucking amazing.”

Mikey went on to describe in vivid detail how the bar turned out to be some kind of alcoholic club meeting where single men drink away their problems. Pete and Mikey had shown up there after going to the store and buying two cartons of eggs. Pete was ‘a short punk with red streaks in his fringe’ and had the bouncy personality to match. After successfully egging his car, they watched the principal freak out from a nearby bush, snickering and taking a video on Pete’s camcorder. After that, they’d gone back to Pete’s where they played a bootlegged version of Ocarina of Time. Pete’s mom had made them some weird meal that involved packaged ramen and, after a dramatic goodbye, Mikey went home. 

“Sounds like we’ve both had eventful days.” Gerard sympathized.

Mikey was still absentmindedly petting Gerard, “I guess so.”

That night, Mikey slept in his room again. He was sort of getting used to it, having someone else there. It was actually really comforting. Sometimes Gerard would wake up from a bad dream, scared and in an unfamiliar house. He’d have to remind himself that he wasn’t in Belleville and that he had school in the morning. But when Mikey was there, he didn’t have to do anything other than scoot closer toward his brother, a tether to reality.

But that night was a little weird. Gerard woke up quite a few times, each by different things. Once it was a bad dream that involved the new friends he made, the other was by a noise that sounded an awful lot like someone going up the stairs, and the other was when Mikey got up to use the bathroom and accidentally sat on Gerard’s hand. The fourth, however, was just Gerard’s body being a dick and admitting insomnia. 

He didn’t want to keep Mikey up so, in the end, he paced in the hallway till his legs felt weird, used the bathroom twice, and stood in front of his mother’s bedroom door until he felt like he was turning into one-half of the twins from the Shining. He decided to go back downstairs to raid the pantry to eat the box of Chicken in a Biskit on the kitchen floor, in the end. 

The whole house was dark and Gerard was fine before anyone told him that his house was probably haunted. But they hadn’t gotten anything on their ghost hunt and Gerard hadn’t really experienced anything he thought of as ghostly. He crept in the dark, remembering episodes of TV shows that started like this, and thought he was being dramatic and forced himself to walk normally to the fridge to drink some almond milk straight from the carton.

He hadn’t taken more than a few swigs when he heard some type of rustle on the other side of the fridge door. God, if his mom caught him with the milk again, he was  _ so _ dead. Quickly, he closed the carton, put it back in the fridge, and turned around to explain himself. 

Except, when he turned around, he saw someone he didn’t know. He opened his mouth to scream for help but the guy reached out, panicked, and said, “Please don’t scream! I’ve tried for days to see you and you can’t scream now.”

“Y-you - what?!”

“I’m Bert. I lived here.” He cracked a smile and Gerard felt all the blood drain from his face.

“No, no, no.” He said quickly, pressing himself against the counter.

The supposed ghost’s smile turned sad, “I knew this would happen. Finally dead enough to show myself and you’re a fucking baby about it.”

“What? What the fuck did you just say?” Gerard wasn’t mad but more or less really fucking surprised. He decided to ignore the insult and get some answers out of him, “Are you the one who gave me the tape and the walkman?”

“Guilty as charged.” He did some sort of bow and Gerard nearly laughed. He felt hysterical. He doubted he could blame this on expired almond milk. 

The ghost didn’t exactly look scary - just really pale and a lot like a normal dude. Gerard thought that his hair was pretty long but this guy’s hair went to his chest, jet black against cadaverous skin. 

“Bert…” Gerard tried out the name. He couldn’t remember Frank or Adam mentioning a name for their friend who passed, “That’s your name, right?”

“Yeah.” He continued to smile, watching as Gerard rubbed at the goosebumps on his arms, “It’s been a really long time since I’ve heard anyone say it.”

“I bet.” Gerard said before the facts kept reeling in, “Fuck, you’re a  _ ghost _ .”

“Sort of. Ghosts aren’t real. I’m a spirit.” He corrected, “You never told me your name, by the way.”

“Shouldn’t you know it if you’ve been trying to meet me?” He asked, voice high-pitched.

Bert rolled his eyes and crossed his arms and reminded Gerard of Mikey who tended to do the same about 100 times a day.  _ Shit, Mikey!  _

The ghost scoffed, unknowing of Gerard’s brother-related inner turmoil, “Well, yeah, but I wanna hear it from you.”

“It’s Gerard.” He replied, finally taking a careful step away from the counter.

Bert’s form physically wavered, like a candle, “Thought it was Gerald for a bit.”

“Gerald,” Gerard laughed, feeling a little less hysterical, “Odd.”

“Yeah, like Gerard isn’t an odd name.” He snickered. His face fell pretty quickly and his voice sounded like it was coming from the tape player - filled with an ongoing static caused by aging speakers, “I’m glad I could say hello while I could. Maybe I’ll see-”

And in an instant, the static stopped. Bert was gone.

Gerard wasn’t sure how he made it back upstairs and into his bedroom; he just remembered standing near the bed and shaking violently. It wasn’t until he eventually let out a sob did Mikey wake up, immediately concerned. He kept asking Gerard about what was going on, what happened, but Gerard couldn’t physically answer. He was shaking and crying too much and he didn’t know  _ why _ .

“Gee,” Mikey sat him down on the bed, “Gee, come on.”

“No.” He shook his head, “No.”

“What happened?” He asked again, sounding a little less hasty and a little more comforting.

“They were right.” Gerard sniffed.

Mikey’s eyebrows furrowed, “Who?”

He took in a ragged breath and said, “We aren’t alone,” before bursting into tears again.

…

_ How about I pick you up after school?  _

Gerard smiled at his phone.

_ Yeah, that works. I get off at 1:30. _

“-right, Gee?” Ray asked.

“Hmm?” He looked up, a small smile still on his face.

“We were gonna come over and listen to the album?” He said but then seemed not to care, “Wait, who are you texting?  _ Oh,  _ is it Lindsey?”

“Um,” Gerard laughed awkwardly, “It’s, uh, actually Frank.”

“Oh,” he scooted his chair closer, “Why?”

He looked down at the phone again. Frank had sent another message that confirmed everything with a smiley face at the end. He fought back a reaction to it, “Well, we’re friends? We’re gonna go get slushies when I get out of school. You can still come over, I’m sure we won’t hang out for longer than two hours.”

“Huh,” Ray said.

Gerard couldn’t control the eye roll that happened, “Ray, dude, if you don’t want me hanging out with him, I wanna know  _ why _ . Just telling me not to isn’t a good enough reason.”

“He’s right, Toro.” Bob agreed, pulling his chair forward, too, drumming on his thigh with a pencil.

“Thanks, Bryar.” Ray huffed, “Okay, fine. Bob is gonna tell the story, though.”

“Bob will not,” Bob said.

Ray gave him a look and it was then that Gerard noticed just how their relationship worked. Bob stopped drumming with his pencil and huffed, “Alright. Fine.”

Ray smiled and leaned back in his chair.

“Alright, so,” Bob turned to Gerard, “basically, Adam is not a good guy. Like at all. Frank… he’s alright. I’ve spoken to him a few times. He’s a hyper little shit but he’s not bad. I’ve only ever seen their friend James, never talked. But Adam was a senior at the time Ray and I started our freshman year.”

“We actually thought he was hot shit.” Ray nodded.

Bob rolled his eyes, “Anyway, they had this other friend, right? Bert McCracken. He was a super nice guy. I can’t think of anyone who genuinely hated him. Even the guys who like, beat him up liked him, y’know?”

Gerard didn’t know how that was possible but nodded anyway.

“He and Adam were kinda weird. And not in the like, ‘I wear makeup and pretend I’m a satanist’ kind of weird but like… the real kind of weird. Secretive and shit. Always whispering and looking around and disappearing sometimes for weeks, showing up as if they’d never been gone in the first place. I heard they were dating but I think that was just a rumor to make sense of this shit. But then they had this big fight in the middle of lunch and I  _ saw  _ that shit.”

“God, it was awful.” Ray agreed, “There wasn’t yelling but the whole room just froze. Adam saw Bert approaching, stood up, and knocked his tray right out of his hands. Bert looked really shocked, not mad, not really. More like… really sad. And when he tried to say something, Adam got really close to him and spoke to him in this deadly, even tone. It was awful.”

Okay, now Gerard was hooked, “What did he say?”

“‘I hope the rope that keeps you on your high horse strangles you’.” Bob recited, “It was terrifying. I thought he was quoting poetry or something but when I looked it up, I couldn’t find anything.”

“Adam was in a band for a minute.” 

“Hmm,” Bob considered, “Yeah, I remember that.”

“But, uh, what about Bert?” Gerard managed to keep a straight face. Up until English, he’d convinced himself that the whole encounter he had last night was a dream.

A look was shared and they all leaned far forward, “He was found dead in his bedroom.”

Gerard’s hands went up to his mouth, “Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah. He went missing, actually. For about two days and then it was all over the news that Bert was found but… not alive.” Ray scratched his head, “You know that he used to live in your house, right?”

“I knew a kid died there.” He lied, “But I didn’t know it was Bert. God, that was only three years ago.”

“It’s still a heavy subject in town.” Bob explained, “That’s why we were hesitant to tell you.”

“Yeah.” He nodded, “How does Adam tie into this?”

“Oh! Okay, sorry. Yeah, Adam was really fucking weird after Bert died. When the police questioned him - I didn’t see this - but apparently, he was super calm, super collected.”

“That’s not what I saw. I live across from the bastard. I only saw like the police come to the house but when Adam walked to the gate to let them in, he looked like shit. Like he hadn’t showered and he’d cried his eyes out for days.” Bob’s face fell, “I actually felt pretty bad for him. He and Bert were really close.”

“And Frank?”

“Frank was always in the background, just kinda standing there. When Adam was interviewed for the local news, Frank was in camera shot, just standing in the background with this thousand-yard stare. I think it’s on youtube if you look up Sabrina, Oregon.”

…

At lunch, Gerard pushed around his food, not eating it. Lindsey kept talking about something to do with the next softball season and he was half listening, half somewhere else. He couldn’t play it off really well since Kitty wasn’t there today so eventually, Lindsey just sighed and tapped his wrist in a comforting manner.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

“Nothing.”

“ _ Bull _ shit.” Lindsey sang, turning her chair to face him, “Tell me what’s going on.”

He shrugged, “This is kind of weird but can we look something up on the computers?” 

She blinked, “Yeah. What do you wanna look up?”

Gerard followed her to the nearest open monitor and watched her log in. He had no idea what his student login for anything was so having her do it was one of those little reliefs. He directed her toward youtube - which he thought would be blocked and was surprised that it wasn’t - and asked her to type in Sabrina, Oregon.

Slowly, Lindsey looked up at him, her hands hovering over the keys, “Uh, why do you want to look that up?”

“Ray told me to. I don’t have internet at home.” He explained, “Just do it, please? I have to see something for myself.”

She nodded and typed it in, letting Gerard lean over to scroll with the mouse. If he hadn’t been sitting in a chair next to her, he might’ve fallen. It was true. The 5th video that popped up from the search was the TV interview. In the thumbnail, Adam was in front and Frank was lingering behind, staring at something in the distance. 

“Fuck,” Gerard said quietly, like a prayer, “I want this one.”

“Gerard.”

He tried to reach for the mouse again but Lindsey smacked his hand away, “Come on, let me just-”

“Gerard!” She said in an angry voice. The library fell silent all of a sudden. Lindsey spoke in a quiet but stern tone, “You can’t just go around looking this stuff up.”

“Why not? Ray told me the whole story in English. Frank’s my friend. It’s my right to know!” He gestured outward, confused, “I’m not sure why everyone’s being so secretive about it! I just want answers and everyone has them but not a single person is willing to give it to me without some kind of blood bond first.”

Lindsey stared at him for a long second. She looked worried and concerned and altogether understanding. Eventually, with a sigh, she pulled out a pair of headphones from her back pocket and plugged them into the computer.

“You aren’t gonna like it, Gerard.” She said solemnly, pressing play when Gerard had an earbud in.

The clip from the news channel was set up just the same as any with poor graphics and the same three white ladies telling stories about nothing you cared about. 

_ “Welcome back to FOX 12. Early this morning, in the small town of Sabrina, Oregon, tragedy struck.” _

It cut to a scene of police tape and ambulances in broad daylight. There were several people standing around something but Gerard couldn’t see what. When the camera panned over, he felt his stomach sink. It was his house.

_ “After two days of searching for their son Bert, the McCracken family were relieved to see that his bedroom light was on. However, as they soon came to realize, Bert was no longer with them. According to officials, he’d been dead for about two hours before he was found at 6am today.” _

The lady continued to talk about death reports and that it was declared a suicide, despite some pieces of evidence that said otherwise. But Gerard couldn’t focus because they had a picture of Bert in the corner of the screen, smiling and leaning against a wall. From the looks of it, they were his senior pictures. Up until that point, Gerard hadn’t realized how young he was. He was just about to graduate. He was Gerard’s age.

His train of thought was derailed but the sudden cut to Adam and Frank, standing outside of the house and looking cold and afraid. The thumbnail had been small but now, watching the video, Gerard realized just how terrible they both looked. Adam looked tired but Frank looked like he’d seen what Hell looked like. His eyes were puffy and red as he stared at nothing, holding himself.

_ “Bert was my best friend,”  _ Younger Adam said,  _ “I… I seriously don’t know what to say. We did everything together - and now he’s gone.” _

Gerard paused the video, ignoring whatever Lindsey was trying to say, rewinding the video back a few seconds. When Adam said that they did everything together, Frank came out of his daze and stared straight into the camera. If anything, Gerard found it unsettling.

“Ge-”

“Shh,” he waved a hand at Lindsey and pushed play.

The rest of the video was boring spects and interviews with people who thought Bert was an outstanding fine gentleman. At the very end, though, the last ten seconds, there was some static, and then Frank came on the screen, looking thoroughly annoyed as he walked away from the camera chasing him.

_ “I said I don’t have any comments to make.”  _ Frank sent a look to the camera.

_ “We just want to get all the info we can, sir, if you’ll just-” _

_ “Look, man, I’ve had a long day. Have you ever woken up to find out that your best friend is dead? Have you? Do you have that resting on your conscience for the rest of your fucking life?”  _ He looked at the camera again and shoved his hand at it. The screen went black and the video ended.

Gerard took the earbud out and looked at Lindsey. She sighed, “I told you. That last bit - with Frank? - that never made it onto the air. I have no idea where this person got it but… yeah.”

Gerard just stayed quiet.

“You okay?” She put a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, it’s just… I thought that would clear some stuff up but it just makes stuff… worse.” He chuckled, “Maybe one day I’ll have the balls to actually ask them about it.”

“No!” She flinched at her own volume and spoke softly, “You can’t ask them, Gerard, it’ll go wrong and fast.”

“Wh - have you asked them?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Who has? Who has asked them anything and it’s gone wrong?” Gerard suddenly felt defensive.

She sat back, a pinched expression on her face, “Gerard, I’m not trying to offend you.”

“I know!” He shot his hands up and then sighed, running them over his face before letting them fall to his lap, “I know. I’m sorry.”

…

Ray wasn’t going to let Gerard leave. Frank was sitting in his car, parked outside of the school. Gerard was standing in the foyer with Ray standing near him, his arms crossed. He tried to step past him but Ray matched his pace.

“What!?” Gerard shot out, furious. Frank had texted him twice and he was going to  _ leave him _ .

“You’ve been told about Frank and Adam and even  _ James _ and you’re still going?” He asked.

“Yes! It’s Frank! He isn’t Adam! He’s sweet and we’ve - we’ve been  _ through _ some stuff!” Gerard sort of admitted, feeling himself go red.

“Do… oh my God.” Ray’s face fell, “You  _ like _ him.”

“I do  _ not _ !” Gerard replied, fired up.

Ray didn’t look mad anymore, he just looked really disappointed. Gerard felt like he was being reprimanded by his own mother, not a peer. He managed to stalk past him, hiking his bag over his shoulder. When Frank caught sight of him, he rolled down the window and waved, looking like he’d won the lottery.

He could ignore everyone’s pressing advances on him when he had friends like Frank. Maybe he’d bring something up. But then again, they were celebrating something good. Gerard shouldn’t bring up something that heavy unless it came naturally.

As soon as he opened the car door, Frank grinned at him, “What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing.” Gerard lied and allowed himself to smile, “‘Sup with you?”

“Oh, you know,” he had a sly look on his face, “Same old, same old.”

As Frank made his way to the local convenience store, Gerard managed to put his things in the backseat. The thing was, he couldn’t stop thinking about Ray, especially when Frank was right beside him, singing along to the CD he put in.

Gerard wasn’t sure what he had seen in that youtube video or what any of it meant. He just knew that he was friends with the guys that were interviewed and he liked being friends with them. They were just kids when their best friend  _ died _ . He didn’t understand why everyone was out to get them.

“So, I was thinking,” he started, pulling into the parking lot, “we could get our drinks and go back to the cemetery? I found a pretty cool spot the other day.”

Gerard blinked, “Yeah, that sounds cool.”

Another thing that Gerard had completely forgotten about was Ray’s accusation. He didn’t like anyone. He hadn’t had a relationship since about February of last year. Gerard had dated a nice girl for about two weeks until the guy who was all the way up Ronnie Radke’s ass swept her off her feet. Not that he was holding a grudge or anything.

And Frank was, well, a mystery to Gerard. He’d been through some shit, he’d been on television, and been harassed by reporters who were trying to expose a friend’s very recent death. It honestly hurt to think about it. And it was pretty easy not to, especially when Frank was grinning and bumping his shoulder against Gerard’s, urging him to try different flavors. And in the car, when Frank made him laugh and he spilled a bit of cherry slushie on him, he did not blush when Frank wiped it off of his leg.

And it was especially easy to forget about anything when Frank was leading him through the cemetery by his hoodie sleeve. They were in a different cemetery than the one they’d met in. He was leading Gerard toward a weeping angel and some type of tree when Gerard caught sight of something familiar. It had only been for a split second - a flash of long black hair - but Gerard knew what it was the moment his sight was blocked by a passing mausoleum. He tugged away from Frank’s grip pretty easily and peeked around the corner to see a familiar face, a dead face, but a familiar one nonetheless.

“What is it?” Frank asked, grabbing Gerard’s hand instead of his sleeve. Whether or not it was planned, Gerard didn’t know.

“I thought I saw something.” He squinted at where Bert had been only moments ago, staring back at Gerard, “You mind if I look?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, pulling the two of them forward. He dodged gravestones and nearly tripped over a lawn-level marker, despite the warning Frank gave him. When he made it to the gravestone that he’d seen Bert by, he nearly gagged. It was  _ his _ gravestone. 

_ Bert McCracken _

_ Beloved son, Beloved friend _

_ February 25th, 1984 - October 1st, 2002 _

“Oh, fuck.” Frank said and let go of Gerard’s hand, “Oh, fuck.”

Gerard couldn’t say anything. His mouth was open but no words would form; it felt like his tongue had grown three sizes too big and rendered itself useless. He just stared at it for a long time until he realized where he was standing and stepped aside, feeling his entire face and neck and maybe even his  _ chest _ heat up. Why would Bert want him to see the gravestone  _ now _ ? Why couldn’t he have waited to see him at the house and ask Gerard to go see it? 

“Gerard…?” Frank asked carefully, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“What?” He asked, unclenching his fists. He hadn’t realized he’d been shaking, “Oh.”

There was a pause. Frank’s hand stayed on Gerard’s arm.

“I’m guessing you know who this is, then?” He asked, looking down at the headstone.

“Yeah.” The wind picked up, “I might’ve done some research.”

Frank sighed, “I had a feeling that you would. Who told you?”

“Just some friends from school.” Gerard waved it away, “I looked it up on youtube, too.”

His hand fell to his side, “So you saw the news story?”

Gerard didn’t have to look at Frank to know that he looked scared. He closed his eyes and said, “I did, yeah. It freaked me out. Seeing my house, I mean.”

Frank didn’t say anything for a moment but stood closer again. It made Gerard feel a little bit better about this mess. Maybe Bert knew he was too chicken to bring anything up and took it into his own hands. Could ghosts read minds? He didn’t know.

“It freaked me out when Adam and I went over to see you.” He admitted. When Gerard looked over, he was looking up at the overcast sky, “You don’t have Bert’s room. I was afraid that you would. His old room is the one closest to the attic.”

“Shit.” Gerard’s eyes went wide and Frank caught his gaze, “That’s Mikey’s room. He only ever sleeps in my room.”

“Fuck,” Frank said and ran a hand through his hair, “I can’t do it, man, let’s get out of here.”

“Do you wanna go to my house?” Gerard asked, “My mom just bought cocoa.”

Thankfully, Frank cracked a smile, “Nah, man. Not after this. Wanna check out my place? I don’t have cocoa but I’ve got coffee.”

“Yeah,” Gerard smiled, “I’d like that.”

“Would you?” Frank’s head tilted to the side an inch but the question seemed rhetorical. He took Gerard’s hand and they got the hell out of the cemetery.

Frank’s place ended up being an apartment above a house. There was a staircase that led to a black painted door. On the front was a homemade sign that said ‘Frankie’s hole’. After getting through that, Gerard was greeted by a pretty cool interior. First off, it was warm and smelled like some kind of pumpkin spice air freshener - so Gerard automatically felt at home. 

Secondly, Frank knew how to fucking decorate. His walls had bat-shaped lights along the perimeter, lighting up the various artwork and band posters of the like. His bed, tucked away in a corner, was just a twin-sized mattress without a frame but the bedsheets were a cool black and red checkered pattern. Around a corner, Gerard could see a small kitchenette. 

“Bathroom’s on your left when you enter the kitchen.” Frank pointed toward it. Maybe it wasn’t a ghost who could read his mind after all.

He scurried off to the bathroom, using it more or less as an excuse to mentally prepare himself. For what? He didn’t know but his heart felt weird in his chest and weirdly, a bathroom break helped it not feel so weird. When he came back out, Frank had some music on a low volume, humming along while he messed about in the kitchen. 

“Hey!” Frank turned around and grinned as if he hadn’t expected Gerard to be there, waving a tin can at him, “I do have some cocoa! I think it’s from last Christmas but this shit doesn’t really expire, does it?”

He shrugged, “Not that I know of.”

“I’m making it with soy milk, I hope you don’t mind,” Frank said as he poured the milk into two mugs.

“I don’t mind.” He leaned against the wall, sort of just watching Frank do his thing. 

It felt weirdly intimate in a way that was hard to articulate. He cleared his throat as if to cover up the thought, “Uh, why does it say ‘Frankie’s hole’ on the door?”

“Ha!” Frank covered his mouth as if he hadn’t expected to laugh so suddenly. He turned around, a little pink in the face, “James made it for me. When I first got the place it smelled like cigarettes and ass. It still does if I don’t change out the candles and air fresheners every once and awhile.”

“Pfft, if it helps, the pumpkin spice was the first thing I noticed. I think it adds to your… aura.” Gerard gestured vaguely to Frank’s person.

“My aura.” He said but not to tease him. Just to repeat, “You’re cute.”

Gerard smiled but then he caught sight of what was happening in the microwave, “Frank, the milk!”

“Shit!” He pulled the mugs out and cleaned up the stuff that had boiled over.

After a brief, joking argument on how much cocoa was too much to put into the mug, the two made their way over to the only furniture in the apartment and sat down. Frank had some kind of floor level table to put the mugs on while they sat on Frank’s bed and waited for them to cool down. When Gerard rubbed his arm, Frank wordlessly put a fuzzy, orange blanket over the two of them.

“Your place really is super awesome.” Gerard admitted, “I’d rather have a small apartment than a haunted house.”

And, fuck, Gerard brought up the ghost thing again.

Frank either didn’t notice or was being kind, “The rent’s cheap. Get a job and I’ll let you move in.”

Gerard giggled and leaned forward to wrap his hands around the mug. If he ended up closer to Frank than before, it was pure coincidence. 

“I know you meant it as a joke but I’m honestly considering it.” He grinned but quickly looked down at the mug in his hands. It was like the beanbag situation all over again. He was close, near the line of ‘too close’ so some. But Gerard didn’t mind. The blanket was soft and the spot where Gerard’s arm was touching Frank’s was really warm. If he wasn’t such a pussy, he’d maybe scoot a little bit closer and make an excuse for being cold.

“Who said I was joking?” Frank asked, “Also, I hope you know that’s my mug.”

“Oh.” He handed it over, watched Frank take a drink, and promptly spit it back into the cup, “Shit, is it gross?”

“Apparently it does expire.” He chuckled, wiping his mouth, “That was disgusting.”

“Maybe I won’t drink mine, then.” Gerard hid a laugh behind his hand.

“Maybe.” Frank agreed and turned so he was facing Gerard, resting his head against the wall, “So why’d you move to Oregon?”

“I could ask you the same.” He pointed out, “My mom has some friends here. Her salon back home wasn’t doing so hot so when one of her friends offered to let her co-own the salon here, she snatched it up. I miss Jersey but we weren’t doing so good there.”

“Aww, man.” He sympathized and briefly touched Gerard’s knee, “Kinda the same for me. I moved out here with my mom after she divorced my dad. She had a cousin out here.”

“Oh, fuck.” Gerard frowned, “My parents are divorced, too. How long ago was it?”

“About… six years? I used to go out to Jersey every once and awhile to see my dad but it wasn’t mandatory once I turned 18. I haven’t seen him in a long time.” He scratched his neck, “I think it’d be cool to go back one of these days. I’ve been putting some cash aside. What do you think?”

Gerard had been pretty caught up in conversation, resting his head on the wall, too, so the sudden question made him stutter, “What? What I-? Oh, I think it’s not a bad idea. Where are you from?”

“Belleville.” Frank shrugged.

Gerard sat up, “No, you’re not.”

Frank looked confused but smiled nonetheless, “Uh, yeah?”

“That’s where we moved here from!” He scoffed, scooting closer, “How fucking weird is that? We’re both from the same town in Jersey and we both somehow end up in the same town in Oregon.”

He had this sort of  _ sparkle _ in his eyes, “It’s like some kind of omen.”

Gerard laughed, “I guess so.”

He didn’t know that he’d fallen asleep until he woke up. The first thing he noticed when he woke up was the fact that he was still sitting. He’d never fallen asleep while sitting before, not even in the car on the way to Oregon. 

He wasn’t really embarrassed that he’d fallen asleep but felt pretty bad because he was supposed to hang out with Frank, not fall asleep the moment he got warm again. He felt comforting pressure on his face and on his arm. When he sighed, he quickly realized the pressure was Frank, pretty much holding him up. Gerard had himself tucked under Frank’s arm with his face pressed against his neck. Oh, God,  _ now _ he was feeling embarrassed. But he didn’t exactly want to jolt up and be all no homo about it because he was really fucking comfortable and Frank was drawing some kind of invisible pattern on his arm with his fingers and he’d had such a bad day already so he let himself savor it while he could. 

After a minute of pretending to be asleep and hearing the faint tapping sound of Frank on his phone, he decided the best way to ‘wake up’ was to move his head just a little bit till he could see and make a low noise in his throat. Frank shut his phone and squeezed Gerard’s arm.

“Hey, man.” He said quietly, “You good? You were out for a bit.”

“Was I?” His voice was hoarse. He sat up a little reluctantly and blinked at his surroundings.

“Maybe like three hours?” Frank guessed.

Gerard looked at him. He tried not to pay attention to the arm that was still around him, “Three hours? I slept on you for three hours?”

“Okay, maybe it was more like four? I got up a few times, though! To use the bathroom, eat, charge my phone… you’re a really heavy sleeper.”

“Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck. _ ” Gerard lamented and tried his best to stand up. In the end, Frank had to help him up, “Fuck, Mikey’s gonna be so mad. Bob’s gonna be mad. Ray’s gonna be  _ pissed _ . Fuck.”

“What?” Frank asked but he was putting his jacket on.

“Long story.” Gerard yawned, “I’ll tell you on the way. Wait, fuck - where’s my hoodie?”

Frank scanned the floor, “I don’t know. Here - just use this. I’ll give you your hoodie when I find it.”

He handed Gerard the blanket that had been draped over them moments ago and he wrapped it around himself, feeling anxious and scared and also a little light-headed. But that was due to something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. 

They walked the few houses down to Gerard’s place while he tried his best to explain that literally all of his friends thought he was bad news because of something Gerard couldn’t understand. He seemed pretty confused, too. 

When they got to his house, Mikey stood up from his place on the porch and went inside. About two seconds later he came out again with his mom, Ray, Bob on his tail. 

Gerard hadn’t said where he would be to anyone. Fuck. 

“Gerard!” Ray rushed toward him, looking pretty pissed, “We thought it had happened again.”

“What happened again?” Frank asked. When Gerard looked over, he had a hard expression on his face.

Mikey somehow pulled him away from the unfolding in front of them. The conversation involved stealing little boys and false motives while Frank explained that everything was simply because he liked hanging out with Gerard and didn’t want to skin him, etc. Their mom just smoked idly on the porch, not really giving a shit but clearly enjoying everything that was happening.

Mikey watched for a second, too, clearly amused, “Ray was really worried when he came over and you weren’t here.”

“I know.” Gerard sighed, “I fell asleep at Frankie’s house.”

“At Frankie’s house.” Mikey replied, glancing over at his brother, “That’s not your blanket.”

“It isn’t.” He agreed.

“Interesting.” He snickered.

Gerard shoved him playfully, “God, shut up.”

There was some raised commotion and then eventually, Gerard heard Ray say, “There’s no winning this one, Iero,” before going back up to the porch. 

Mikey and Bob followed. Gerard could hear Ray complaining to Gerard’s mom who honestly couldn’t care less. Oregon was a lot safer than Jersey and she was taking that to heart. 

When Gerard turned toward Frank, his hands were balled into fists His face was red and the anger in his eyes was nearly tangible. Gerard was pretty angry, too, and he hadn’t even heard most of the argument between his two friend groups. When Frank caught his gaze, he softened a little bit but gestured wordlessly toward the porch.

“I know, I  _ know _ .” Gerard huffed and ran a hand through his hair, “I’m really sorry, Frankie.”

“It’s not your fault.” Frank snapped. He backpedaled, taking in a breath, “Sorry. It’s just… fuck, I can’t put shit behind me. Forever, I’m the guy who used to be friends with the dead kid.”

“Frankie,”

“Yeah.” He sighed, “You okay, though, man? Like you’re good if I leave?”

He sent a glance back to the porch where everyone was pretending they weren’t watching, “Yeah, I’ll be fine. But I, uh. That doesn’t mean I want you to leave, though.”

He watched all of Frank’s anger melt away as a small smile spread across his face, “You’re too nice to me, dude.”

“Am not.” Gerard argued, “Do you want your blanket back?”

Frank looked him over and shook his head, “Nah. You look cute wrapped up in it. I’ll be back for it soon but not tonight.”

“Okay,” Gerard felt his face heat up. 

Frank had been calling him cute a lot lately and it wasn’t until then that he realized the fact.

“Consider it a parting gift for all the trouble I’ve caused.” He shrugged and avoided eye contact.

“You haven’t caused any trouble,” Gerard said and wrapped his arms around Frank.

“Oh!” Frank chuckled, surprised, before hugging him back. He didn’t try to let go, “I had fun today, as weird as it was.”

“Yeah. Maybe next time, you can sleep at my house.” Gerard joked, pulling away.

“A slumber party, huh?” Frank snorted, touching Gerard’s wrist.

He felt his stomach do a little twist of some kind and - oh.  _ Oh. _ Oh, well, that made sense.

“Only if you’re up for it.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He grinned and his eyes got all squinty and Gerard’s heart started to race. This was a strange and new feeling, “I don’t think I’ve had a fucking sleepover since 7th grade.”

“So is it weird? It was kind of a joke.” Gerard admitted.

“Nah, man.” They grinned at each other for a second before Frank pulled his hand away, “I’ll text you, okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, okay.”

After getting berated by Ray’s questions on Frank’s motives, they all sat down in Gerard’s room and listened to the record he brought. Thankfully, Ray didn’t seem as mad as Gerard had expected. He was glad that Frank was smiling on his way home and not completely infuriated. Going to sleep angry was never a good thing, Gerard knew from experience. And the record was really good, too.

After about track three, Ray leaned over, “Are you still gonna hang out with him?”

He pulled the blanket closer to him and nodded, “Yeah, I think I will.”

After a beat, Mikey leaned in super close and whispered, “Are you into him?”

Gerard smiled, “Yeah, I think I am.”

…

Gerard didn’t speak to Frank, Adam, or James for a week. 

He meant to meet up with Frank and texted him from time to time but they never saw each other. At one point, Ray, Mikey, and Gerard were walking back from the convenience store and passed Frank’s place. His car was there and his lights were on and Gerard was just gonna pop in for a second and say hey,  _ seriously _ he would be back in just a second - but Ray was pretty adamant about changing the subject and showing them an abandoned house in the woods. Which, okay, was really cool but he would’ve liked just to say hey to Frank.

He actually got to see a lot of cool things that were hidden in Sabrina but he was really put off with Ray and Bob’s mission to keep Gerard away from anyone other than them. They were really good at distracting him, though. Other than the house in the woods, they showed him this weird cult that met at the local legion, a back room in his mom’s salon that was supposedly haunted, and even drove the Way brothers to Salem to see a local band at the Ike Box.

But on Thursday, when Mikey was asleep and Gerard crept downstairs to get his MP3 player, Bert appeared behind him. It hadn’t really scared him this time; he was just shocked to see him standing there, the lines on his face pulling downward. Before, when they had met, he was excited and grinning and overall not hard to look at. But now Bert seemed colder - the room did anyway - and stared at Gerard with a hollow expression.

He froze. He’d just wanted to listen to Saves the Day while he tried to battle his insomnia but, like any horror movie would tell him, the dead never sleep. After a second, Gerard put his MP3 player in his pocket and waited for Bert to speak. He didn’t.

“Are you okay?” Gerard decided on saying, feeling a sense of dread crawl up his spine.

Bert’s eyes caught his own, “You’re unhappy.”

“I-” He stared back. Usually, when he asked how someone else was, they didn’t tell him how  _ he _ felt, “How did you know?”

Bert gave him a look that read ‘are you for real’ but spoke nonetheless, “You might be able to hide it from your friends but I’m basically left over thoughts and emotions. I know how you feel.”

“Like an empath?” Gerard tried to make sense of it.

“Like an empath.” He nodded, “You should tell your friends how you feel before something drastic happens. Before you make an impulsive decision.”

He frowned, “What does that mean?”

Bert crossed his arms, “It  _ means _ that you need to stop sulking and take that dick outta your mouth so you can tell your friends how you actually feel.”

“I do  _ not- _ ”

“Yes, you do.” He said firmly, “There is a dick made of lies in your mouth and you need to accept it.”

“Metaphorically,” Gerard narrowed his eyes, all former feelings of dread put aside, “How should I remove this dick of lies?”

He watched as Bert sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to him. Gerard sat. He couldn’t  _ not _ . Bert was dead. That meant he had died. Gerard decided that if anyone knew the most about life, it was the one who experienced the end of it. 

“As someone who has died because of mistakes,” Bert began, putting a hand on Gerard’s knee. It was oddly solid. Gerard stared at it, “I recommend that you tell your friends how you feel. I don’t know your internal fucking struggles but I can tell that you’ve been moping all week and I’m tired of it.”

“Ugh,” Gerard replied, putting his face in his hands. Hunched over with his elbows resting on his thighs, he gestured pointedly, “My friends don’t want me hanging out with my other friends.”

“What are they? The mafia?”

“Maybe.”

Bert spoke over him, “Look, I’ve seen the guys you bring home. All familiar faces. Most of them have good intentions. Emotions - that shit.”

“I know that Ray has good intentions. I just…” He sighed and sat back, “I just wanna see Frank.”

When he looked over, Bert’s face lit up, “Wait, like my Frank? Frankie?”

Gerard nodded, “Yeah, Frankie.”

“He’s a great guy. He’s aggro as shit but he wouldn’t hurt anyone on purpose.” He reassured him but soon had this wistful look on his face, “I miss him.”

Bert had plenty of chances to reconnect with him; it didn’t make sense. Gerard stared at him with a penetrating gaze - or as penetrating as he could muster - and carefully poked at Bert who remained solid, “Why didn’t you show yourself the day we tried everything to contact you?”

He grinned, “It wasn’t the right time. Plus, the most I could do then was move objects. Now I can go all solid and shit!”

Gerard looked at the hand that was still on his thigh, “Clearly. Are you hitting on me?”

Slowly, Bert brought his hand back to his lap, “No. That’d be fucking stupid, Gerard. I haven’t touched a living soul in a few years, let me be. Besides, you have the hots for Frank.”

Gerard was about to respond but as soon as he opened his mouth, there was a creak from the stairs. Mikey stood frozen on the steps, Frank’s blanket in hand, looking terrified. Gerard looked to the cushion that Bert had been on. He shot his eyes back to his brother who looked both ways down the hall like he was crossing the street and made his way over to Gerard.

“What the everloving shit did I just witness?” He asked, his voice in a higher pitch than normal.

Gerard stared at him, still sitting on the couch. He knew how he felt when he first saw Bert and Mikey wasn’t usually one to let everyone on to what he was thinking so when he saw his brother turn pale, he nearly freaked out himself. He stood up and put his hands out before he realized that was weird and put them down again.

“What was that?” Mikey repeated, “There-there was a  _ guy _ . And he  _ disappeared _ .”

“That… was Bert?” Gerard offered. 

“Bert.” He repeated, “Oh, of course.”

…

He refused to get into Ray’s car, claiming he was going to get coffee before school, despite the thermos in his hand. He stopped by the convenience store, grabbing a cheap candy bar and heading to the empty checkout desk. The best part about it being so damn early meant that no one could interfere with his decision making.

“Hey,” Frank said with a grin, “it’s been a bit, yeah?”

“It has.” Gerard agreed, “I don’t want this.”

Frank snorted but took the candy bar and threw it in some box under the desk. He did a once over of their surroundings before leaning forward, “I got your texts. Are you sure you wanna do something like this? You could just talk to them.”

“I’ve been told.” He replied flatly. Bert was turning into a really annoyingly reasonable voice in his head, “But you know they won’t listen. I’ve tried before. And it’s not drastic.”

“It is.” He rolled his eyes, “But whatever, dude. I’m fine with it. You brought my gas money, right?”

“Oh!” He reached into his pocket and handed Frank the 20, “Yeah. Seriously, though, dude. I missed you.”

His demeanor changed from bitchy to sincere pretty quick, “Same here. It was pretty lame having to tell the guys we couldn’t hang out because your friends were keeping you hostage. Did James tell you about the party?”

“He did! I’m really excited. I don’t usually go to parties but the way he described it got me to say yes.” Gerard chuckled, “I better get going.”

“Hey,” Frank reached over the counter and grabbed his hand, “If they say shit, don’t let it get to you, okay?”

“I won’t.” Gerard allowed himself to squeeze his hand.

He beamed and squeezed back before letting go, “See you later, Gee. I’ll pick you up.”

The only person who caught wind that something could be up with Gerard was Lindsey. The passive-aggressive kid that sat next to him didn’t show up to class that day so Lindsey took that opportunity to claim his seat as her own and forced Gerard to work with her on a worksheet. They got through it pretty easily but as soon as they were done, Lindsey started asking weird, prodding questions about what he was going to be doing that weekend.

“I think I might go to a little party with some friends.” He admitted, tapping his pencil nervously.

“A party, huh?” She grinned, “Any cute girls gonna be there?”

Gerard snorted, “Oh my God. I have no idea. I know a cute boy or two might be going, though.”

“Oh?” She questioned, scooting closer, “Are you gay?”

“Nah.” He waved it away. He thought he was gay for maybe a hot minute but then he remembered how much he loved Sarah Michelle Gellar and tossed that label aside, “Bisexual.”

Lindsey beamed, “Awesome! So am I! So who’s this cute boy?”

“It’s no one, really.” He blew it off, “I’m not gonna be at lunch today. I’m gonna go out and get some off-campus.”

“You can’t, though?”

“Well, technically, I don’t have to eat lunch here. I’m just too lazy to go home and make my own.” He chuckled. The bell rang and he stood up, gathering his things, “So have a good weekend, yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll text you.” She eyed him suspiciously, walking with him out of the room, only to pull him aside behind some lockers, generally hidden from passing kids. Gerard’s brain went from happiness to fear when she gave him a shove, “You’re going to see Adam, aren’t you?”

“Woah!” He put his hands out. She looked absolutely livid, fists at her side, “I’m seeing Frank, not Adam!”

“Yeah, well, where there’s a Frank, there’s an Adam.” She scoffed, “I just thought you were being vague because you weren’t really going to the party. What are you planning?”

“Nothing!” He lied, snapping at Lindsey, “Why does everyone think I need to listen to them when they’ve done  _ nothing _ to me! This whole ‘my friends versus my other friends’ thing is getting really fucking old!”

“Because!” Lindsey snapped back, voice going low and deadly, “Because they’ve hurt people before and they’ll do it again.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?” He gestured outward, “The worst Adam has ever done to me is pull my hair when we make out!”

Her jaw dropped, “What?”

“You heard me.” He sighed, giving in, “I appreciate the concern but I just want to hang out with these guys. They’re my friends. Frank’s letting me-” He cut himself off, “Frank’s been really understanding. Adam’s been a little unpredictable but other than that, I haven’t had any problems.”

She still seemed suspicious, “Has he stopped when you tell him no?”

Gerard nodded, “He has.”

“Have they ever pressured you to do something you didn’t want to?” Lindsey pressed.

He pursed his lips, “James dared me to drink pickle juice once.”

“That’s not what I-” She huffed, “You know what I meant.”

“I do. And it honestly makes me really uncomfortable to even think about it.” He hiked his backpack up and weakly gestured outward, “I’m gonna go, Lindsey.”

Her face fell but nodded, “At least hug me goodbye.”

Gerard laughed and hugged her, “You make it sound like I’m going to die.”

She mumbled something that Gerard assumed was meant not meant to be heard but it made his blood turn icy cold, “It’s happened before.”

And with that last haunting phrase, he said goodbye and walked out the front doors where Frank was sitting in his beat-up car, singing aggressively to Black Flag. Gerard threw his stuff in the backseat and tried to focus on the weekend ahead of him, of all the fun things he had planned out. 

It seemed he didn’t do a good job of thinking positive because as soon as he got into the passenger’s seat, Frank said, “Hey, man. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just a little off, I guess.” He said, “Where are we getting lunch?”

“Adam’s meeting us at A&W.” He put the car in drive, “How’s school?”

“Different.” He said and didn’t elaborate.

Frank gave up on trying to cheer him up. Gerard watched him turn the radio down a little bit and heave a sigh. Maybe he was being a little bit of a dick. He picked at his jeans and searched for something to say. Frank was doing him a favor, making his life a little bit better and he was being  _ dumb _ .

“Uh,” Gerard started, “how was work?”

He snorted, “It was fine.”

Okay, mission failed. Frank was definitely just being nice but Gerard didn’t want ‘just nice’, he wanted - fuck, he wanted the usual Frank. The one who told weird stories and was kinda shady but was still his friend nonetheless. Gerard chewed on his lip for a second, thinking about anything rational or normal he could do to make this any less awkward but neither he nor Frank were rational or normal so he reached over and put his hand on Frank’s leg.

“Hey,” he said, “thank you, Frank. For real, you know?”

Frank glanced over and smiled, putting his hand over Gerard’s. He relaxed when he saw Frank lean back in his seat.

“I know, man.” He replied, “We're still picking up your stuff?”

“Yeah! Yeah.” He said and felt a warm feeling spread through his chest because he was with Frank instead of at school and he was sort of holding Frank’s hand on his thigh. 

The house was empty when they got there and he was forever thankful. Frank parked the car and got out but when they got up to Gerard’s doorstep, he hesitated. Gerard looked back to the house, saw nothing, and turned back to Frank.

“Come on,” he said, “we don’t wanna be late. You know Adam will leave without us, right?”

“Right.” He chuckled, “Him and his fucking van.”

Frank didn’t go upstairs when Gerard went up to get his things. He stayed downstairs, claiming he had to stay near the car, should try to steal the still-running vehicle. Gerard had nodded and gave him one last look-over. He looked nervous or - or  _ something _ . 

Upstairs, his bag wasn’t sitting on his bed where he had put it. With a long miserable sigh, he went all around the room looking for it. He looked in the unused closet and even under the fucking bed. He was beginning to get irritated, rage starting to bubble in the pit of his stomach when he realized just who he shared the house with. The rage turned into a cold chill all over his body when he went into Mikey’s room - Bert’s room.

He went to flip the lightswitch but the lights didn’t turn on. Oh, that was just fucking great. He stood in the doorway and gripped onto the hem of his shirt, hoping that his bag would just float off of the floor and come to him. But, obviously, since he wasn’t a Jedi or anything cool, he had to go into the room himself and get it. 

As soon as he set foot in the bedroom, Bert appeared sitting next to the bag. He looked a little annoyed but not really scary, eyes squinted and arms crossed.

“I love Frank but running away from your problems with him isn’t a good idea.” He said and stood up, “Seriously, man. I went through your things. This is enough shit to last you a  _ month _ .”

“I wanted a variety.” Gerard said and it wasn’t a lie, “I’m not staying with him for a month. Maybe just a week.”

Bert glared at him.

“Or a weekend!” He sighed, “They won’t listen to me. I just wanna hang out with Frank. But they’re all caught up on Adam and James and-”

“Adam?” Bert asked, “You never said anything about Adam.”

That didn’t feel good. It felt like a blow to the fucking chest, that’s what it felt like. The way Bert’s voice went hollow and his frame went a little more blue at the edges had the hairs on Gerard’s neck standing up. He took a step backward, ready to bolt if needed. But Bert had never hurt him before - had never even  _ implied _ that he had the power to hurt Gerard.

For once, Gerard didn’t feel defensive when he asked, “What’s wrong with Adam?”

In the blink of an eye, Bert was directly in front of Gerard’s face. For a second, Gerard thought Bert was going to kiss him but he just cupped Gerard’s face. He felt his eyes roll into the back of his head without his permission and that was the last thing he could remember from the real world for a long time.

_ He was in a completely different room. It didn’t look like a room inside a house, exactly. The cold concrete ground under him had dead leaves scattered about. When he looked up, the ceiling wasn’t very high but high enough for him to stand. It was shaped like a rectangle but had weird stone grooves repeating in a weird circular pattern. He realized he wasn’t alone when the sound around him flickered into existence.  _

_ “Right, Bert?” Frank said and Gerard felt himself respond like he was watching a movie through someone else’s eyes. _

_ “Absolutely.” His mouth replied, “We should find you a boyfriend, too.” _

_ Across the small room, Frank emerged from the shadows. He was three years younger, wearing the same jacket from the newsreel. He didn’t look unhappy, though. He looked annoyed, “I don’t need a boyfriend when I have you.” _

_ “That’s gay.” Gerard as Bert teased, throwing a discarded pinecone at Frank. _

_ “Might as well be.” Frank shrugged and dodged the pinecone easily. _

_ It was good and light-hearted; he felt it spread through his being. Well, not his being. It was confusing.  _

_ “We should get outta here,” Frank said and rubbed at his arms. _

_ “Scared of the dead, Frankie?” Bert said. _

_ It was then that Gerard realized they’re in some kind of burial building. Like a mausoleum, almost but a little more spacious. There were slabs of stone that jet out of the walls, gold plaques stating who resided in the space and when they died.  _

_ “Fuck you, man. It’s just freezing in here.” He went toward the gate that they entered through, the lock picked. A paperclip hung from it like it had gotten stuck. _

_ Gerard looked down at his hands and saw a cut on his middle finger. He knew that he was the one who picked it.  _

_ He followed Frank out of the structure. The light was blinding when they exited. Once his eyes had adjusted, he saw Adam’s van in the distance, parked outside of the cemetery. The usual feeling of joy that came with seeing Adam crawled up his spine in the form of dread. Turning around swiftly, he followed Frank to the back of the cemetery. It wasn’t the cemetery they hung out in in Sabrina. It was much bigger and a lot older. He heard water in the distance. _

_ “Shit, is that a ravine?” Bert looked over the edge. _

_ “Yeah. It took me a long time to make a path to even get here.” Frank looked over the edge, too. _

_ The water rushed past, white and frothy. He felt the mist from his place on the edge and took a step back, “Shit, man. That’s fucking sick.” _

_ Frank just grinned and sat down on a patch of grass, his legs dangling over the side. Gerard got worried but he was Bert now, so he just sat down, and pulled on Frank’s hoodie sleeve. _

_ They stared at the water for what felt like forever, not speaking. Bert snaked his arm through Frank’s, holding onto his bicep. It was a casual move, like it had been done a million times. If Gerard had done this in his time, he would be shaking with nerves but he felt calm, his fingers gripping onto the extra fabric on Frank’s arm. _

_ “I think I’m gonna get closer.” Bert said and started to get up. _

_ “Like hell you are!” Frank’s eyes flew open and he snagged Bert by his belt, forcing him to stay sitting. _

_ “God, you’re no fun.” Bert pouted but leaned against Frank. _

_ Frank shook his head, “I’m just trying to keep you alive.” _

_ Behind them, the bushes rustled. He whipped around and made eye contact with Adam. His hair was shorter and his jaw was set. He didn’t look even remotely happy to see his two friends. He felt that familiar dread rise into his throat. _

_ “Adam,” Frank warned, putting a hand on Bert’s shoulder. _

_ He didn’t move, despite Frank’s defensive actions, “I followed you here.” _

_ “Why?” He asked, hooking his fingers under Frank’s sleeve. _

_ “Because you still need to apologize to me.”  _

_ He scoffed, “I need to apologize? You’re the one who started it all!” _

_ “I’m not the one who cheated.” Adam took a step forward. _

_ Beside him, Frank’s face went from furious to despaired. Gerard was confused but the dialogue spoke for itself, “We were drunk and messing around, Adam. I’m honestly shocked that you think what we did was cheating.” _

_ “Yeah,” Bert chimed in, “if it was cheating, why were you jerking-” _

_ “Shut the fuck up!” Adam snapped, “I wanted it to be a one-time thing. But you guys seem pretty keen on fucking off to God knows where and blowing each other behind my back.” _

_ “Adam,” Bert stood up, his hands clenched at his sides, “you won’t even blow me. Why are you so concerned?” _

_ Adam opened his mouth to speak but Frank spoke over him, “It’s not even a sex thing. He just theoretically wants someone. Right, Adam?” _

_ His mouth hung open stupidly, “That’s not-” _

_ “Then what is it, Adam?” Bert asked, getting closer now that he was fired up. _

_ “Hey! I’m allowed to not want to be with you like that, man!” Adam poked him firmly in the chest, causing him to take a step back, “But going behind my back and getting what you want from someone else is fucked.” _

_ Bert shoved him back. His feet were on the edge of the ravine, “Go tell that to Amy.” _

_ Adam stared back. _

_ “Oh, you think I don’t know about that? How you guys go off every weekend?” He gestured toward the cemetery gates, “I bet she’s in the fucking van right now!” _

_ “You shut the hell up about Amy!” Adam came down from the shock of it all and shoved Bert hard, palms to his chest. _

_ He felt the earth disappear under his feet. _

Back in the real world, he was standing in an empty room. Bert was nowhere to be seen but Gerard could still feel his cold presence nearby. The bag was in his hands now and he stared at it for a long moment. 

It wasn’t until he saw the wet streaks on his face in the mirror that he realized he’d been crying.

His reflection was a little warped but it was him nonetheless. His stupid hair and his stupid face. He closed his eyes and counted backward from five, hoping to block out the memory that wasn’t his.

Instead of succeeding, though, he just pressed his palm to his eyes and whispered, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t believe them.”

“Gerard?” Frank called up the stairs, sounding worried. Gerard realized that he had more present matters at hand.

“Yeah! I’ll be down in a second!” He shouted back, hoping that his voice sounded steady enough to fool him.

He wiped at his face, collected his things, snagged Frank’s blanket off of his bed, and descended down the stairs. Frank was standing awkwardly by the screen door, fidgeting with his hoodie sleeve.

“Hey, you good? You were up there for a bit.” 

“I just couldn’t find my bag.” Gerard said honestly, “I also got your blanket.”

A crooked smile spread across Frank’s face, “You’ve been using it?”

“I, uh,” he felt his chest go all tight like his heart was squeezing itself, “yeah? I don’t, uh, have many blankets.”

It felt weird now that he had admitted it to himself. He liked Frank. A lot, actually. He totally didn’t sleep with that stupid blanket and hold it close to him and breathe it in and sigh dreamily. Nope. 

God, he was so fucked.

“Well, I’m glad it was put to good use.” He smiled and offered to carry Gerard’s bag.

It was easier, weirdly, to sit in Frank’s car and know it wasn’t Frank that he should be worried about. Bert had even sort of approved of Frank for Gerard. Which was as freaky as it was endearing. With his overnight bag at his feet and Frank’s blanket on his lap, he thought that maybe everything would be fine if he just stuck with him.

The day was turning out to be pretty cloudy as they pulled into A&W. It took them a few minutes to find out where Adam was sitting when they realized he was outside. 

On the fucking playground. 

If Gerard wasn’t so shaken up by the experience he had in his brother’s room, he would’ve laughed. When Adam heard Frank call out to him, he popped his head out of the slide and made his way over, giving each of his friends a quick kiss on the cheek.

“This is pretty lame pregame but I’m a slut for cheese curds.” Adam said unprompted, “I already ordered like a shit-ton with some root beer. Hope you guys don’t mind.”

Gerard and Frank exchanged a look. They shrugged.

“Fine with me,” Gerard said.

One of the perks of being in a group of three was that Gerard didn’t have to talk a lot in order to seem like he was an active part of the conversation. Adam and Frank had their talk and if Gerard felt compelled, he spoke up. Plus, he had a huge ass plate of cheese curds in front of him. He had an excuse to be quiet for once.

“James is gonna meet us at the party.” Adam said with a mouthful, “He says that there’s gonna be beer and girls.”

“Where’s the party again?” Gerard asked.

“Salem. James moved out there like a pussy when he graduated.”

“For good reason,” Frank rolled his eyes, “James goes to Chemeketa.”

“He’s majoring in… Music Theory? I think he wants to transfer to a big university eventually.” Adam explained further and the conversation dropped afterward.

It was weird to think that the people he was sitting with had witnessed someone  _ die _ . Or, well, at least Frank did. It looked like an accident but maybe it hadn’t been. Maybe Adam had actually wanted to hurt Bert. It was a lot to process. He’d come to the conclusion that Bert and Frank had maybe had some sort of fling because Adam wasn’t willing to do something. Or maybe it was because Adam had cheated first? He had a lot of questions and wacking them out in the middle of A&W wasn’t a good idea.  _ Did you fuck your friend who Adam killed?  _ Not exactly a meal conversation. 

Adam had offered to let Gerard ride with him to Salem but he politely declined. He didn’t exactly look disappointed. He tried not to read too much into it. 

In Frank’s car, Gerard put the blanket on his lap again and stared out the window. He wished they weren’t going to a party. He wished they were driving away to someplace Gerard didn’t know. Like fucking Montana or some shit. Or maybe they could go back to Jersey.  _ Jersey _ . God. That’d be amazing. 

Next to him, Frank chuckled.

“What?” 

“It’s just…” He hid another laugh in his hand, eyes on the road, “You’re kind of cuddling my blanket.”

Gerard let it fall to his lap rather than pressed tight to his chest, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. S’cute.” He said.

He let himself pull the blanket a little closer but not to the same degree he had before, hands fisting in the fabric. He was tense and the blanket was helping a little bit. It was a familiarity in the fucking weirdness he was experiencing. 

“Are you good?” Frank asked after a second, nudging Gerard’s knee.

He fidgeted in his seat, “I just, uh, got a lot on my mind.”

“Wanna share?”

Gerard thought,  _ what the hell _ , “Do you… believe in ghosts?”

“Duh.” He snorted, “I saw a ghost.  _ In  _ your _ house _ . And then went over to investigate it.”

“Okay, that makes this next part easier.” He took in a sharp breath, “I… saw something. Someone.”

Frank was quiet. When Gerard looked over, he had a serious expression on his face, “Don’t fucking jerk me, Gerard.”

“I’m being serious!” He felt a little crazy trying to convince another believer but he needed to tell  _ someone _ , “I saw him.”

“Him.” Frank repeated, “Bert?”

“Uh, yeah.” Gerard didn’t know the boundaries of this conversation so he continued, “He spoke to me.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not fucking joking!” Gerard rose his voice, “I’m telling you because you’ve seen him, too! I feel fucking crazy. I should have listened to him.”

“I’ll humor you.” Frank’s voice went all tight and annoyed, “What did he say?”

“He wanted me to ‘take the dick of lies out of my mouth and tell my friends how I feel’.” He huffed.

He was quiet for a brief moment before snickering, “I’m sorry just - is that verbatim?”

“Yeah. Why?” Gerard questioned, confused as to how Frank could go from mad to laughing in a second flat.

“A dick of lies.” Frank shook his head, a smile on his face, “He, uh, used to say that a lot. He never really understood metaphors so he made up his own.”

“Seems like something he’d do.” Gerard said mostly to himself until he realized just what he said and spoke before Frank could, “He talked a lot about you. How much he misses you. You guys were pretty close, right?”

“You could say that.” His tone was light.

This was going  _ nowhere _ . Gerard rolled his eyes, “I know how he died.”

“No, you fucking don’t.” Frank scoffed, “Not even the police know.”

“But you do.” Gerard pressed further. He just wanted some fucking answers, a confirmation, “And so does Adam.”

“God, shut up!” Frank snapped. He felt all the questions leave his head. Fuck, “I don’t want to talk about it, Gee. We’re going to a party for fuck’s sake, let’s just drop it.”

Fuck.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He said quietly.

“It’s-” Frank sighed, “Shit,  _ I’m _ sorry. It’s not something I talk about. It’s not something  _ anyone  _ talks about, Gerard.”

“Then I won’t talk about it.” With some difficulty, he didn’t say, but he wouldn’t talk about it. To Frank, anyway.

…

The party was bigger than expected. It was some kind of community house where a bunch of dudes from Chemeketa all chipped in on rent. It was on the suburban outskirts, humming with music and the idle chatter of people. Frank didn’t seem all that perturbed so Gerard sucked it up and followed his footsteps. He hesitated to leave the blanket but then realized he would be the weird guy at the party with a blanket. He was usually the weird guy at the party but at least he didn’t have a  _ blanket _ . Normally, he would find some kind of flat ass soda and pick over bookshelves and hang out with the cat. But that obviously wasn’t going to happen tonight.

As soon as they made it up to the porch, a couple of people came over to Frank and said hey, how are you, it’s been forever - things of the like. Gerard just stared blankly at the strangers until Frank managed to cut into the conversation and introduce him as the ‘friend from Sabrina’. Everyone looked at him kind of warily until he accepted a can of something that didn’t smell all that good. Maybe it was the social part of it. No one drank because they wanted to, it was so everyone knew they weren’t a snitch. Or whatever. Gerard didn’t know.

As they entered the foyer, he noticed that the house was most definitely someone’s grandma’s place. Or used to be. It just had that ‘we’re partying at my grandma’s 2nd house’ kind of vibe with the lace curtains and a lingering scent of potpourri. Gerard was just getting comfortable when he turned around and Frank was no longer at his side. 

He felt like a kid losing his mom at the mall, spinning around and looking over the sea of unfamiliar faces. He took one step forward and a hand fell on his shoulder.

“Hey, you good, man?” James asked, looking worried.

Gerard must’ve looked pretty freaked out. He tried to cover up the fact by taking a drink but  _ dear God _ , that was  _ foul _ . It tasted like somebody pissed in a can of Coke. He swallowed and offered a smile, “Yeah. I’m looking for Frankie. Have you seen him?”

“Frankie, huh?” He stood on the balls of his feet and looked over the crowd. Eventually, he pointed to the door to the kitchen, “He’s sitting on the counter. He looks pretty lost, too.” 

“Thanks.” He said and weaved his way through the crowd.

The kitchen was pretty small compared to the rest of the house. There were maybe 10 people crowded in there, sitting on the small dining table and hovering around the mostly empty fridge. He caught a piece of conversation about some girl from Portland State and a lemon. He decided he didn’t want to know and squeezed past to stand in front of Frank.

His face lit up, “Hey! I was looking for you.”

“Sure.” Gerard teased, hoisting himself up onto the counter as well.

“I was!” He took Gerard’s drink and took a sip before promptly spitting it back into the cup. Gerard took it back with a cautious hand, “God, that tastes like piss.”

“And you would know?” He asked.

Frank chuckled, “My secret revealed.”

Gerard stared at the can with disgust and gently placed it onto the counter next to him, “I don’t know what that was but I’m sure as hell not drinking it now.”

“Yeah.” 

The party hummed around them. 

“I could give you a house tour if you want?” Frank offered, “I used to crash with James from time to time.”

“Yeah, that’d be cool.”

Frank hopped off of the counter and pulled Gerard onto his feet, dissolving the weird tension quickly with a smile. Hand in hand, Frank led him through various parts of the house, making entertaining comments. When they burst into one of the bedrooms and saw two girls making out, Gerard clamped a hand over his mouth, completely shocked while Frank merely shouted ‘fucking sorry!’ before slamming the door shut.

“Gerard… Gee,” Frank was  _ laughing _ , “You’re so fucking red, dude.”

He punched him pretty hard in the shoulder. He huffed when it barely made Frank move, “We just walked in on someone!”

“We did!” He agreed and continued to laugh, “God, Gerard, you act as if you’ve never seen a lesbian couple at a party.”

“I have! I’ve seen loads of gay couples at parties.”

Frank stared at him.

“God, shut the fuck up.” Gerard grabbed Frank’s hand, trying to signal he wanted to finish this damn house tour but Frank just stared at their hands, “What?”

“You’re holding my hand.” He said.

“Yeah? We’ve been holding hands all night.” He didn’t wait for Frank to say anything, “I wanna finish the tour. Maybe, uh, not go into any bedrooms, though.”

“Shame,” Frank said, turning back to his usual self, “there was a specific room I was gonna show you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, it’s the one where two dudes are making out.” He leered, leading Gerard down the hall.

“Oh my  _ God _ .” Gerard groaned.

“Anyway,” Frank grinned, “There’s only one part of the house I haven’t shown you yet. I practically lived in the basement for a month when I moved out of my mom’s place.”

“The basement?” Gerard mostly said to himself. 

At his old house in Jersey, he had a basement bedroom. It was amazing. He had a whole ass level to  _ himself _ . If it weren’t for the kitchen upstairs, he would’ve never left. Well that and the stairway was too narrow to move Gerard’s bookshelf down there.

Frank led him to a door near the kitchen that looked like it didn’t get opened very much, squeaking when it opened. The stairs were carpeted, a good sign, and didn’t really groan when they marched down them. At the bottom of the staircase, Gerard could see dark outlines of what looked like a guest room. It was pretty small; Gerard only saw the silhouettes of a twin-sized bed, a small table, and a TV set? It was hard to tell.

Behind him, he heard a clicking noise, “Oh, for fuck's sake, James.”

“What?”

“The lights blew out the day I moved out and I guess he never replaced them. It’s been a  _ year. _ Lazy fucker.” He snickered. His insult sounded more like a compliment rather than anything malicious, “Where are you?”

“I’m… standing?” Gerard laughed awkwardly and made his way toward where Frank’s voice had come from, “Where are  _ you _ ?”

There was a pause before Frank said, “Also standing.” 

Gerard giggled, following his voice again, “Very helpful.”

“You said it first.” 

He ran straight into Frank’s chest, “Oh. Hey.”

“Hey.” Frank agreed, wrapping his arms around Gerard.

Gerard was all up for affection, moving his arms around Frank’s middle. He felt his heart start to race, “Frank?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you keep a secret?” He asked in a small voice that seriously made him sound 12.

“Of course.” He rubbed Gerard’s back soothingly. 

He sucked in a breath, “I’m… kinda scared of the dark.”

“Shit,” he whispered, “I’m claustrophobic.”

“So you’re good right now?” 

“I’m good.” He paused, “Are you good?”

Gerard’s face was pressed against Frank’s shoulder, “If I don’t open my eyes.”

“Oh,” Frank sighed and moved away slightly, “Then don’t open your eyes.”

“I won’t.” He replied, ducking his head. God, his whole body felt weird, “I won’t.”

The hand on his back moved into his hair, “Gee,”

Gerard just shook his head. He didn’t know what to say.

It seemed that Frank didn’t either, so he just touched the back of Gerard’s neck, gentle as ever, and kissed him. 

Gerard pressed into it with a sigh. It was about damn time this fucking happened. He hadn’t wanted to admit it to anyone, the amount of time he imagined what it would be like to kiss him. He definitely hadn’t expected it to be in a pitch-black basement at a party. Gerard felt light-headed and took a step forward to keep his balance, coincidentally pressing Frank against the wall. Frank was pulling at Gerard’s hair and Gerard was  _ seriously _ okay with that. It felt like they’d been kissing for hours when he pulled away, breathless and hot.

Frank giggled and squeezed his shoulder, “God, I’m so fucked.”

“Whipped.” Gerard chuckled.

“Yeah,” he pressed their foreheads together, “absolutely whipped.”

Light filled the room from the staircase, the sounds of various voices and music made their way down to the basement. 

“You guys alive?!” Adam said, “James said he saw you disappear down here!”

Frank laughed, “Yeah, we’re alive!”

Gerard could hear his footsteps on the stairs, “If you’re not making out, I will be super disappointed.”

The two of them pulled apart, trying not to burst into laughter. But as soon as they looked at each other, it was useless. Adam came to the end of the stairs and stared at Frank and Gerard with a look that was somewhere between joy and confusion. 

“What?” He asked but that just made Gerard snort, “Oh my  _ God _ ! You guys totally made out!”

“Nah, man.” Frank wiped under his eye, “I was giving Gerard a tour and it took us a hot minute to realize the lights blew out.”

“Lame.” Adam sang and grabbed Frank’s wrist, “Come on, man, the band just got here. Geoff wants to say hey before they go on.”

“Oh, sweet!” He followed Adam but turned around to catch Gerard by the hand, “Come on, Gee.”

Upstairs, people were slowly migrating to the living room where some people were setting up various instruments and plugging random stuff into the walls. With his hand in Frank’s, Gerard was pulled through a throng of drunk 20-year-olds who seemed to be confused as to why the Blink-182 CD had stopped playing.

The kitchen, now that people were moving, was pretty much empty. There were a few lingering dudes and the person that Adam and Frank knew. He seemed like a cool enough dude, all smiles and long limbs and dirty blonde hair. He was pretty excited to play the gig and see his friends. Apparently the mass of people at the party was because of Geoff’s band. When Gerard heard that he was from Thursday, he couldn’t hold back the shocked look on his face. He had Thursday songs on his fucking MP3 player!

“-no, I’m happy to be here! I haven’t played a small thing like this in a long time. It’s refreshing.” He looked up and smiled big at Gerard, “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Geoff.”

An awkward second passed while Gerard took his hand out of his pocket and shook, “I’m Gerard. Uh, a friend of Frankie’s.”

“Awesome!” He nudged Frank, “A friend of Frank’s is a friend of mine. You staying after the show?”

He nodded, feeling his face heat up. His whole body heat up, really, “Yeah, yeah. I leave when he does.”

Frank’s smile turned a little sly at the edges, “He’s staying with me for a few days.”

“Oh,” Geoff drew out, looking Gerard over in a strange way, “I see.”

Gerard fidgeted, “I’m having some problems at… home.”

Geoff seemed to not buy it in the slightest but said, “Shit’s rough, I get it. You got a cell phone, man?”

_ Oh, this was not happening _ .

Gerard nodded.

“Sweet! You mind if I punch my number in?” He extended his hand outward and Gerard hurriedly got his phone out and went to his ‘new contact’ screen. He handed it over and watched Geoff type in his number, “I’m gonna send myself a message, too.”

_ Oh my God, it was happening! _

Once Geoff was satisfied, he handed the phone back to Gerard and got immediately pulled away from discussion, shouting with glee as he disappeared in the crowd. Gerard looked to Frank who had the biggest smile on his face.

He looked down at his phone and the message Geoff sent himself:

_ Cute guy at the party named Gerard’s # _

“Oh my God,” Gerard said aloud.

“What?” Frank looked over his shoulder at the phone.

He stared at the words and said, rather lamely, “Geoff called me the cute guy from the party. I have Thursday songs on my MP3 player and Geoff called me the cute guy from the party.”

Frank laughed, a big ‘ha!’ that nearly made Gerard jump, “You get used to it.”

“Shit.” Gerard looked at Adam who had been watching everything unfold with his arms crossed.

“You’re like a womanizer but with dudes, Gerard.” He shook his head and started to walk toward the living room, “I don’t get it, man.”

When Adam was out of earshot, Frank leaned in close and pressed his fingers to Gerard’s forearm, “I get it.”

“God,” Gerard shuddered, “Is this what it’s going to be like from now on?”

Frank smiled at the words, “Absolutely.”

…

Gerard sighed, long and miserable, throwing himself face down onto Frank’s bed. Behind him, Frank laughed and joined him, “Tired?”

“Mmphf.” He replied intelligently, turning his head so he could talk properly, “I partied too hard.”

“You really did.” He sounded impressed, running his hand through Gerard’s sweaty hair, “I don’t think I’ve seen a sober dude mosh that enthusiastically.”

“It was  _ Thursday _ .” He mumbled, embarrassed, “Did I look stupid or something?”

“No, it was really fun to watch. You got like - this look in your eyes.” Frank brushed some hair out of his face, making his soft expression visible to Gerard, “I could just tell that you actually had a good time. I was worried.”

Gerard turned onto his side, “You were worried?”

“Well, I heard a rumor you weren’t really a party person.” He looked away and worried his lip with his teeth.

“I’m a concert person, though.” He put his hand over Frank’s, “I still can’t believe I have Geoff fucking Rickly’s number in my phone.”

“And he thinks you’re cute.”

“I know! God,” he breathed, “Best night of my life, seriously.”

“The night’s not over yet,” Frank said in a strange, even tone.

Gerard met his eyes and felt his face heat up, “Oh. For real?”

He snorted and rolled his eyes, “ _ Yes _ , for real. I like you, man.”

“That sounded very no homo of you.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

He shrugged, cool as ever but vibrating on the inside, “I don’t know. I really like you, too.”

“Damn, one uping me.” Frank mumbled and bent down to kiss him, “I really, really like you.”

Gerard giggled when their lips touched, “Mmm, I really, really like you  _ a lot _ .”

“God, shut up,” Frank mumbled, accepting defeat by nipping at the skin under Gerard’s jawline.

It didn’t hurt, not really, but Gerard gasped and grabbed onto Frank, feeling his whole body go warm. This… he could get more of this. He lifted his chin, encouraging Frank. He took this as an invitation to leave nasty bruises on his neck where everyone would see them. The bastard.

He shook wherever Frank touched him - his belly, his chest, his thighs. He didn’t know how to react. This was a million times more amazing than that first time at Christian summer camp. The only time Gerard got a little bit of confidence was when Frank pulled back and looked him in the eyes, hesitant. Gerard didn’t want him to be hesitant. He made a whole show of sitting up before pressing Frank into the mattress and kissing him hard. 

“Oh!” He laughed and Gerard couldn’t kiss an open mouth so he laughed, too, and pressed a chaste kiss to his jaw, “Oh, you’re feisty when you want to be.”

Gerard made a face and propped himself up on his forearms, staring at Frank, “Please don’t ever call me feisty.”

“What?” He looked truly confused before a smirk spread across his face, “Feisty, Gerard,  _ feisty _ .”

Frank jabbed his fingers into Gerard’s side and he produced a very manly squawk. Frank took this opportunity to pin Gerard to the bed like they had been before. Gerard was laughing, though, “Stop! Stop or I’ll - oh.”

His hands were pinned to the mattress, his fingers between Frank’s. It wasn’t the hand-holding that threw him off, though, it was the full-body contact he had with Frank. From head to toe, Gerard could feel him, warm and inviting. But Frank was up a little higher, his belt pressed against his hip, and one of his legs pressed between Gerard’s. He was hard.

“Oh,” he said again and Frank’s eyes went big but he didn’t move.

“I can stop.” He said hurriedly.

Gerard squeezed his hands, “I don’t want you to.”

His expression went slack and he pressed their foreheads together, “God, I can’t look at your face.”

Frank moved every so slightly against Gerard’s hip and Gerard had to force back a groan, “Why not?”

“You just…” He sighed, “You looked so open. Like you were nothing but right now. Right now in front of me.”

That’s how he felt. Nothing else mattered. No ghosts, no murders, no rude friends - he was nothing except for who he was right there, underneath Frank. 

Gerard closed his eyes and said “I am nothing,” before he lifted his chin to kiss Frank.

He untangled their hands so Frank could cup the sides of Gerard’s face and kiss back with such an intense desperation that Gerard didn’t know what to do. He pulled at Frank’s shirt until he felt skin, sliding his hands under the fabric to scratch at his shoulder blades.

“Mmm,” Frank said between kisses, “Everything. You’re  _ everything _ .”

Gerard smiled, his hands moving into Frank’s hair as he kissed at his collarbones. This was nice but dear God, he needed more. He pulled Frank back up bodily and grabbed at his hips, rubbing his dick against his thigh. 

“Oh, my God,” Frank breathed and managed to sit up, pulling his shirt off, “Why the fuck am I still wearing clothes?”

Gerard wanted to tease him but instead, he snickered and rushed to undress as well. He kicked off his pants awkwardly after nearly throwing his socks across the room. He expected that Frank would stop at his underwear like Gerard had but he was sorely mistaken. 

Fuck. That was Frank. In all his glory. 

Gerard knew he was staring but Frank didn’t care. Gerard reached out, letting his fingers move from the scorpion tattoo on his neck to the birds on his hips, pressing his palms flat on the winged creatures.

His fingers were centimeters away from Frank’s dick. He just stared. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to say. The only experience he had was in a pitch-black janitor’s closet but in Frank’s apartment, he could see everything. Frank didn’t seem as thrown off by the limit of lighted sexual adventures he had and reached out to palm Gerard through his boxers.

“Fuck,” he whispered and leaned forward to catch Frank in a gentle, closed-mouth kiss.

“Lay down,” Frank ordered in a low voice.

The tone sent a shiver down his spine and he did as told, keeping eye contact as he leaned back onto the mattress. Frank lowered himself as well, his elbows resting on either side of Gerard’s hips. His fingers curled underneath the waistband and he pulled slowly at it, a dark look in his eyes.

“Frank,” Gerard said, just to say his name.

He pulled his underwear all the way down. Frank kissed at Gerard’s thigh, at his hip, and where his leg met his torso before licking up Gerard’s length, sending him into a fit. If he’d thought just a tease felt that good, he certainly was not prepared to handle himself when Frank took him into his mouth. 

“ _ Oh _ . Fuck, Frank,” he moaned and slid his fingers into Frank’s hair, pulling.

Frank hummed at the touch and Gerard’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. He was so glad they were at Frank’s house. He was being loud and it was all Frank’s fault. Him and that amazing fucking swirly thing he did with his tongue. He didn’t try to take him in all the way, which Gerard definitely respected because while his mouth took refuge at the head, he jerked him off with a steady hand.

Gerard tugged at Frank’s hair and he pulled off, “What?”

“You… you were going to make me come,” he breathed, “in two fucking minutes.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Oh my God, just get over here.” He made grabby hands for Frank and he sat up, kissing him hard.

Oh. That was, well, that was definitely him that he was tasting. He didn’t think that would be so fucking hot but it was. Gerard moved his hands, resting them on the small of Frank’s back. He just - God, he couldn’t stop touching him. He wanted to feel everything.

“I don’t know if I wanna be on top of you or not,” Frank admitted when he pulled away.

Gerard brushed Frank’s bangs to the side so they could make eye contact, “What makes you say that?”

“Because I want to pin you to the goddamn mattress but at the same time I really wanna see what you’re capable of.” 

“Oh,” Gerard said and felt his dick twitch, “I swear if you say feisty-”

“I wasn’t!” He sat back, “Sit up, I have an idea.”

Rather curious, Gerard did as told. Frank sat them both on their haunches before pulling Gerard in for a kiss. It wasn’t a dirty, deep one like Gerard had been expecting; it lasted for maybe a second before Frank lifted his chin and very quietly asked if Gerard would kiss his neck. He seemed nervous to even dare to consider it when only moments ago, he’d left a pretty nasty bruise an inch below Gerard’s ear. When he bit down just a little bit, Frank’s hand touched his chest. He was just about to pull away, to see if Gerard had hurt him but Frank kept his head in place with his other hand.

“Fuck, this is what I want.” Frank whispered, almost like a prayer, “This is what I’ve always wanted.”

With his mouth still pressed to Frank’s neck, Gerard felt him reach between the two of them and jerk both of them off with one hand, dicks pressed together. Gerard moaned but it hummed against Frank’s skin. Frank sort of breathed in agreement and sped up the pace. 

Gerard was close, he had been ever since Frank had blown him so it took an embarrassingly short amount of time for him to come onto Frank’s hand. Frank jerked the two of them through Gerard’s orgasm. He breathed heavily onto Frank’s neck, feeling probably the best he had in a year, maybe more. He chuckled and looked down at where Frank was still going, a little less fast and hard and a little more slow and purposeful. God, Frank jerking off. It was a mess between them but Frank was still at it, slowing down, even more, when he realized that Gerard was watching.

“No,” he groaned and replaced Frank’s hand with his own. He licked at Frank’s jaw and felt his whole body tense. Frank came with a gasp followed by a long, drawn-out groan.

“Jesus, Gerard.” Frank panted, lying half on top of him after they’d cleaned up, “Gerard.”

“Frank.” He giggled, “You just keep saying my name.”

“I came so hard I forgot how to talk.”

“You’re talking right now.”

He moved so he could glare at Gerard from under his bangs, “We need to work on our pillow talk.”

“For real.”

A pause.

“So.”

“So,” Gerard agreed.

“Ah, fuck it. Be my boyfriend?” Frank blurted.

Involuntarily, he laughed, “Ha! I’m sorry - I just - yeah. Yeah, fuck. I’d love to.”

“Sweet.” He kissed Gerard’s knuckles, “God, man. My own boyfriend.”

He was feeling the warm feeling of sleep seep into every part of him, despite the electric buzz he still felt under his skin, “I can’t believe it. Frank Iero - my damn boyfriend.”

“Say it again.”

“ _ Boy _ friend.” Gerard giggled quietly like it was a secret only they were allowed to know.

“I don’t think we’ve said it enough.”

“God, shut up.” Gerard slung an arm around Frank’s waist and yawned, falling asleep without a care in the world.

…

When he woke up, Bert was across the room holding a pack of cigarettes. Frank was no longer next to Gerard. He reached over to feel the space he’d left and found it cold. He blinked against the fairy lights in the room and sat up on his elbow. He could hear the shower running in the next room.

“So you did it.” Bert said and tossed the pack into the air before catching it, “You won Frankie over.”

“I what?” Gerard cleared his throat; it was too early for this, “Won him over? What?”

“I guess that’s a bad way to put it.” He frowned and gently threw the pack onto the mattress.

“Yeah.” He agreed and sat up all the way. He was still naked. He lifted the covers over his chest, “How are you here?”

“Those.” He pointed to the cigarettes, “Open them.”

Gerard reached over carefully, hoping this wasn’t some ghostly trick and fucking demons or whatever would come out of the pack. But when he did eventually open it, it was just a mostly empty pack of cigarettes. The only things in it where one half-smoked cigarette and some scratchy writing that said ‘to my best fuck buddy’.

Gerard stared up at Bert, “Are you attached to this or something?”

He nodded, “Frank gave that pack to me. He still keeps it. He got one of my jackets when I died and that was in the pocket.”

“Huh,” he stared at it with a weird, empty feeling in his chest, “Are you attached to my house, too?”

He nodded again but crossed his arms, “Are you jealous?”

“No.” He felt his face flush, “I’m his boyfriend.”

Bert looked genuinely surprised, “Oh, wow. He hasn’t had a boyfriend for a long time. He must really like you.”

Gerard shrugged, “I guess.”

There was a small pause. Gerard could hear Frank open a bottle in the bathroom.

“I just… why are you here? Not that I don’t like you - you seem pretty cool - but usually, when you show up, you have something to tell me.” He closed the pack of cigarettes and held them out.

Bert came over and took them, sitting cross-legged in front of Gerard, “This is how it all happened for me. Frank and I got a little too lonely and one thing led to another. We fucked. It was damn good, too.”

Gerard rolled his eyes in good humor.

Bert sort of laughed as well but stared down at his hands. His eyes looked empty, “But Adam found out. He got really mad. We had been dating for about 6 months. And I really did respect that he didn’t want to sleep with me, you know? I didn’t want to pressure him. And Frank and I had been stoned -  _ really _ fucking stoned. 

“I was going to tell Adam myself, own up to it. I was waiting for the right time to tell him but there was never a right time. And then Frank and I fucked again. And then another time. And even once at a family reunion of his. He caught us when we were being careless. We were at a party and we snuck into the master bedroom… Adam was fucking livid. Angriest I ever saw him. You already saw what happened after that.”

“Shit.” Gerard hugged himself, ignoring the falling blankets, “Shit. Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“I, uh, I heard you were missing for two days? Is that true?” He asked and looked up at Bert.

He’d gone pale and almost blue around the edges, looking less real and more like a spirit, “I can’t remember much of that. I was… all over the place. Spiritually. I remember some screaming, being covered in leaves, and eventually, I ended up in my room with gashes on my wrists.”

Bert held out his arms. Gerard couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen the wounds before.

“Do they hurt?” He asked after a beat.

“No.” He sighed, “Posthumous injuries don’t tend to hurt.”

Behind him, the bathroom door opened. Gerard was honestly surprised that he hadn’t noticed the shower shutting off in the first place and turned around swiftly. Frank stepped out with a towel around his waist, humming something to himself. When they met eyes, a guilty look spread across his face.

“Hey,” he said in a soft voice, coming over and sitting next to Gerard, “I was gonna wait until you woke up but then I really had to pee, and then I thought I should shower while I’m up.”

It took a second for Gerard to go from ‘ghost with gashes on his wrists’ to ‘Frank being soft and loving’. He smiled, glad for the warmth and familiarity, “You’re fine, Frankie. How about I take a shower and then we can… I don’t know cuddle or something. Drink coffee.”

He sighed, visibly relieved, “Hell, yeah. I’ll get the coffee ready while you’re in there, okay?”

“God, you’re the best boyfriend,” Gerard said honestly and leaned over to kiss his still slightly damp forehead.

“Damn right.” He grinned and helped Gerard stand.

It was so weird. He was still very much naked and Frank was just treating him like usual. Well, Frank had probably been in the game much longer than Gerard. He decided not to make it a big deal. He did, however, send Frank a confused look when he was handed some clothes.

“I know you brought your own but,” he looked away, “I don’t know. Feel like sharing.”

Gerard stared at them, “My mom says that red is a good color on me.”

Frank sputtered and then burst into laughter, “Oh my - well your mom and I have at least one thought in common. That hoodie doesn’t fit me right. I thought it might look good on you.”

“You just think I’ll look cute in your clothes.” Gerard teased and felt his face heat up when he nodded, looking embarrassed, “Oh. Oh, wow, that’s… God, Frank, that’s fucking sweet.”

“I’m not sweet.” He pouted.

“Yes, you are.” Gerard rolled his eyes and kicked at his bag, “If you find something clean that you like, wear it. We can trade.”

In the shower, Gerard just stared at nothing for a long time. He felt full and empty at the same time. Lucky but ill-fated. He wished he could just go back to passing notes with Lyn-Z and playing weird games with Mikey. He wished he could just - just - fuck, he didn’t know. He loved where he was with Frank but he wished he hadn’t met Adam. But without Adam, he would’ve never met Frank. It was weird. 

He scrubbed at his skin until it hurt.

Back in the bedroom, Frank was sitting on his bed in a comically playboy-esque pose, holding two cups of coffee. Gerard immediately cracked up and knelt down so he could kiss that damn smirk off of Frank’s face. He took his coffee and allowed Frank to position him under his arm, wrapping a blanket around the two of them. 

“God, you’re so damn cute.” Frank mumbled and kissed Gerard’s head, “And you smell like me.”

“Is that bad?”

“Nah. Kinda sexy.”

“God, you’re so weird,” Gerard said affectionately.

Frank made a noncommittal noise, “Adam wants to go to the cemetery later today. There’s this really cool one a few towns over with like a fucking church next to it. It’s totally abandoned. Creepy as shit.”

“Creepy.” He agreed and jumped when his phone started to ring across the room.

He started to get up but Frank pushed him back down, “No, I’ve got it.”

Frank dug through the pile of discarded clothes until he held up Gerard’s sidekick triumphantly. Gerard held out his hands and Frank tossed it over.

“Hello?” He answered warily.

“Hey,” it was Ray, “I’m outside.”

“What?” Gerard shot up and opened Frank’s door. Sure enough, Ray was on the bottom of the stairs. He hung up, “What? Why are you here?”

Ray opened his mouth to speak but hesitated when Frank came to wrap his arms around Gerard’s waist. He was being protective. He had every right to be.

“I wanted to check up on you. You haven’t been answering anyone’s texts or calls. Mikey was pretty freaked that you didn’t show up last night. When I came over this morning, he was in your room…”

“Yeah, he doesn’t like to sleep in his room.” Gerard stared at Ray questioningly, “Is he good?”

“Yeah. Are you good?”

“Best I’ve been in a while.” He said honestly, putting his hand over Frank’s.

“Okay.” He nodded, “I’ll be on my way.”

“Wait,” he pried from Frank’s grip and went down the stairs, pulling Ray in for a hug, “I’m just staying for the weekend.”

“Okay.” He sighed and hugged Gerard back, “I was pretty fucking furious when I realized you were here.”

“I know.” Gerard winced and pulled back so he could smile uneasily at Ray.

Ray rolled his eyes, “No remorse, I see.”

“Shit, sorry.”

“Nah,” he waved it away and sent a glance to where Frank stood on the landing, “I wasn’t mad when I saw you come out. I don’t know what it is about you but I can never stay mad for long.”

“I think it’s the bedhead.” Gerard shrugged a shoulder.

“And the sweatpants.” Ray agreed and the two of them giggled, “Just keep in contact with us next time?”

“Yeah.” He paused, “Was my mom worried?”

“Mrs. Way seems to think that nothing bad could ever happen to you.” He rolled his eyes.

“At this point, I”m sure she’s right.” He sent a smile and a wave to Frank behind him. He looked kind of pissy but visibly relaxed when Gerard waved, sending a small, dainty wave back, “I always think life sucks and then good shit happens.”

“And Frank’s good shit?” He asked with a smile.

Gerard shifted awkwardly, “Uh, yeah. He is.”

“Are you guys a thing now?”

“Why do you want to know?” Gerard asked, feeling defensive, “I thought you didn’t like him.”

“Well, we aren’t going on any camping trips any time soon, that’s for sure but he seems to make you happy.” He shrugged, “Even I noticed that from the get-go. That’s why I was worried.”

“Oh.” He felt his face heat up, “Yeah. He’s my boyfriend as of last night.”

From Ray’s expression, Gerard assumed he knew exactly what that entailed, “Well, shit, Gerard! Text us this stuff, man. But, uh, leave out the details for your brother’s sake.”

Playfully, he shoved Ray, “God, shut up.”

“Never.” Ray grinned and gave Gerard one last hug, “See you Monday, yeah?”

“Monday.” He agreed and watched Ray walk away.

…

_ Ray says ur gay _

Gerard laughed out loud, mostly shocked by the bluntness of the message. Frank, in the middle of putting on a pair of jeans, sent him a weird look but Gerard just waved him away and shot back a quick message.

_ Well, yeah. U knew that. _

“Got a hot date?” Frank asked, sending him a smirk.

“If my brother is a hot date, then yes.” He shoved the phone in his pocket. It vibrated, “He’s being dumb.”

“Brothers are notoriously dumb,” Frank said.

Gerard chuckled, “Aren’t you an only child?”

He shrugged.

He texted Mikey back while Frank continued to change. He’d been wearing sweatpants and a ratty shirt before, deciding that if he was going to show his face in public, he should change. Apparently, Adam notoriously questioned his dress sense.

_ Ray says u nd frank were being gross _

_ Debatable. Gross to him. _

When Gerard looked up, Frank was staring at Gerard with a strange expression on his face, “You’re being weird.”

“No, I’m not.” He replied as his phone vibrated again.

“Yes, you are.”

_ U nd frank should come over. I’m baking  _

“I just,” Gerard sighed, “I kinda wanna go home.”

Frank said, “Oh,” and Gerard didn’t have to look at him to know that he looked upset, “Alright. Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Mikey sent another text:

_ Bert likes brownies, apparently _

Gerard  _ was  _ being weird and he knew it. It was because of that damn conversation he had with Bert. He’d tried to convince himself that it was just some kind of dream but his dreams weren’t as vivid as they were when he stared at the mess of his wrists. Maybe Bert had the ability to change how his body appeared to others. Maybe he was lying about the gashes on his wrists. 

But then again, he’d seemed pretty upset by it. Gerard could usually sniff out a lie but when it came to Bert, maybe it was different. Maybe he was good at picking up on cues with the living but it was different with the dead. Then again, Bert had been alive before. He doubted that in three years, he managed to hide how to lie. Gerard’s been trying to hide his stupid white lies for  _ years _ . 

Anyway, he couldn’t see Adam in the cemetery, not after all of that. It would’ve been so much easier to just say that to Frank but Frank didn’t exactly know that Bert was a real ghost and not just a figure in a window. Frank looked nervous. 

“Was it… did I do something wrong?” He asked, opening the door for Gerard.

“No! No, it’s just… I don’t really want to see Adam today.” He said honestly. It was a brutal type of honesty that he really didn’t want to explain but he had to. He just had to, “I mean, well, we’re a thing now. Adam’s pretty much known for kissing me at inappropriate times. And… well, he gives me bad vibes.”

“Bad vibes? How so?” He stepped closer, his tone far from accusing.

“He just reminds me of someone who used to do some bad… stuff.” He made a face; it was proving to be extremely hard to lie to Frank.

Frank’s eyebrows furrowed, “Someone did something to you?”

“No, not to me.”

His expression went from confused to worried pretty quick, “To someone else?”

Mikey’d been in fights before. He used to get messed with pretty bad back in Jersey since he was tall and thin and kind of weird. Gerard could remember times when he’d driven Mikey home and he’d be using Gerard’s gym shirt to wipe his bloody nose on. But he’d never seen Mikey get put in a situation where he might  _ die _ . He’d seen his brother and his friends get punched, shoved, kicked, and backed into corners but it was all the typical ‘let’s teach the emo a lesson’ shit from movies. He could lie to Frank and tell him Adam reminded him of the kids who used to mess with Mikey. 

“To someone else.”

“Can I ask who?”

Gerard thought of the messages Mikey sent him and got a really bad idea, “I could show you who.”

“Is it Mikey?” He asked, stepping onto the stair landing.

Gerard did the same, “No. It’s… kind of a long story. But it’ll make sense when we get to my house.”

Frank gave him a strange look but started down the stairs anyway, “Alright, Gee. I trust you.”

_ Frank and I are on our way,  _ Gerard texted,  _ tell Bert not to disappear on us. _

…

The house looked the same as always. His mom’s car wasn’t there and he was relieved. He was pretty sure that explaining Bert to her would be a difficult task. Hell, it was difficult to explain it to Mikey, and Mikey believed a lot of the shit his older brother said. 

“I’m actually kind of glad you’re taking me with you,” Frank admitted as they went up the steps, “When you said you wanted to go home, I thought you meant you didn’t want me there.”

“No, I kinda always want you around,” Gerard said.

He grinned, big and bright but it faded, “It’s kinda funny how you and Adam went from making out for no reason to not wanting to hang out with him.”

Gerard turned around, “Do you  _ want _ me to make out with him?” 

Frank crossed his arms, “Absolutely not.”

“Thought so,” he opened the door. “Mikey! We’re here!”

There were two voices chatting in the kitchen and they stopped pretty abruptly when Gerard called out. Mikey, however, shouted back that ‘they’ were in the kitchen. 

Bert was on the counter, watching Mikey mix the brownie batter. His smile fell from his face. 

Frank stared at Bert. 

Bert stared back.

“Shit,” Bert said, “Gerard?”

“Uh,” he nudged Frank forward, “I don’t think you guys need introductions.”

Frank stayed firmly planted in his spot, face pale and mouth agape. It was like that for a few more seconds before he blinked back into reality. Shock was a nasty thing. When Gerard had first met Bert, it was… a pretty interesting experience.

“You…” Frank said and looked to Gerard, “You said you saw someone.” 

“He’s what I saw.” He gestured to Bert, “I told you that I saw him.”

“I thought you were jerking me.”

“You gotta stop saying that, dude.” Bert smiled and hopped off the counter, “Jerking someone usually entails something a lot more enjoyable.”

“Oh my God,” Frank rushed forward and Gerard was spooked for one, solid second until he saw that the two of them were hugging, “It really is you. Fuck, how are you solid?”

He laughed and held on tightly, “I missed you, Frankie. And I’m not exactly sure.”

“Shit,” Frank pulled away, “I missed you, too.”

In an instant, it seemed like the reality that Bert was  _ dead _ seeped into Frank’s mind because he stepped back and looked really upset. Bert looked confused for a second until he seemed to realize, too. He didn’t exactly look angry - it wasn’t  _ Frank _ that had killed him - but he looked distraught.

“Frank, you know I don’t blame you, right?”

Frank sort of pulled at his hair, “Fuck. Now I do. Shit, Bert, I-”

“You can’t do anything.” He shrugged, “It’s just how it is.” 

Frank leaned against the counter and stared at nothing for a long time. Gerard stood next to Bert and offered a small smile. He just nodded and looked back to where Frank was slowly losing his mind.

“Gerard,” Frank looked up, “You said you knew how he died.”

“Uh, yeah. He showed me.” He rubbed at his arm.

“Shit, that’s why you didn’t want to go…” He mumbled to himself, “That’s why you didn’t want to go? How long have you known?”

“The day we went to the party? That’s why I took so long upstairs.”

“Shit,” he repeated, “ _ shit _ .”

“Do you… you still hang around him?” Bert asked.

Frank looked seriously hurt, “Yeah.” 

“Even after what he did?”

Gerard watched him squeeze his eyes shut, “It’s not like that.”

Bert took a step forward and touched Frank’s shoulder. The look in his eyes and the sudden drop in temperature made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He’d never been scared of what Bert was capable of until that moment. Maybe it was the fear of Frank getting hurt. He didn’t care what Bert did to him but he definitely cared what he did to Frank.

“Then what’s it like?”

There was a pause.

“Bert, I did some fucked up things, okay? I never - I never touched you, okay? I don’t know how you got into your room.” Frank was blinking rapidly, trying to back away.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I know!” He flung his hand out, frustrated, “Just let me fucking talk, okay? It’s a long story. There’s some shit I don’t know and there’s some shit you don’t know.”

“Should we sit down for this?” Mikey asked, still holding the bowl of brownie batter. Everyone stared at him. Gerard gave him an incredulous look. Seriously! What the fuck, Mikey?! He just blinked, “Well, I was just asking. If it’s a long story, I could make hot chocolate.”

Surprisingly, Bert cracked a smile, “Your brother, man.”

“I know.” Gerard eyed him warily, tugging on Frank’s sleeve until he was at his side.

They all sat in the living room. Frank and Gerard sat on the couch while Mikey and Bert shared the recliner. If someone had told Gerard a few months ago that his brother would be cuddling a ghost, he would’ve laughed. Now he was just confused. Had they been hanging out without Gerard? That was totally lame.

Frank tapped the side of his mug. Gerard could tell he was forcing himself to make eye contact, tensing up when Bert nodded encouragingly at him. Gerard reached over and squeezed his thigh. Frank startled but relaxed a little under his touch. He put his hand over Gerard’s. Gerard held it.

Alright,” Frank cleared his throat, “I freaked out when you died. Hardcore. I, uh, nearly pushed Adam. I was going to call 911 but he punched my lights out. When I woke up, I was at home in my bed and I couldn’t find my phone.”

“You could’ve used your mother’s phone. Or the landline.” Bert pointed out.

“I tried to.” He huffed, “My mom’s cell was suddenly missing and someone cut the phone line.”

“Shit,” Mikey said and immediately covered his mouth with his hand, “Sorry.”

“No, that’s kinda how I felt. ‘Oh, shit.’” Frank brushed his thumb on the back of Gerard's hand, “I stayed in my room for about 24 hours just fucking shaking. Adam came over in the morning and asked if I would help him. God, I threw a bunch of shit at him. Clothes, books, a fucking  _ lamp _ . I told him to fuck off and  _ die _ . How-how could I help him, Bert? How could I?”

Bert stared at him, gripping the arm of the chair, “Frankie…”

“He left me alone after that. That day, some suspicion that you ran away started spreading around. Because even if we did weird shit, we always got back before curfew. My mom asked if I knew anything and I just… I might’ve cried?” He laughed nervously, “And then the next day they found you in your room. I don’t know how you got there. I do know that staging it as a slit-wrist hanging made me furious. I tore shit up. Destroyed public property. Beat up a journalist. I’m surprised no one pressed charges.”

“So am I.” Bert said, “I heard about that. My spirit was hazy back then but I heard about that. You’re aggro as shit.”

He smiled softly, “Yeah. The only time I let a camera on me was in the official reel for the news. I wanted to kill Adam the whole time he talked. And I almost did.” He stopped the repetitive motion on Gerard’s hand, “He said that if I told anyone, he would kill me. Threatened me a few times with… real shit.”

“Like what?” Bert asked.

“Physical violence, mostly. Sometimes shit that involved my mom.” He shrugged, “I still hang around him because he said if we didn’t then people would… think things. It was really hard to do at first but as the years went on, it got better, almost like it had been before. I haven’t forgiven him but sometimes I force myself to forget.”

“Why?”

“ _ Dammit _ , because sometimes it’s easier.” He admitted and hung his head, “Forever, I’m the kid whose friend died. No one but Adam and James and maybe my mom wanted to be around me. That was until I grew up and started getting out of the house.”

“Forever, I’m the dead friend.” Bert scoffed, “I would call you selfish but I think I’d react the same way.”

“So you aren’t… mad?”

“No, I’m fucking furious. But not at you.” He sighed and reached out, making grabby hands at Frank. Gerard found it both comical and endearing, “Now come here, fucker.”

Bert pulled him down aggressively, making it an accidental dog pile on top of Mikey. It didn’t seem like it was going to stop soon so Gerard stood up and cracked his fingers. It was going to be a long night.

…

“I want you to spend the night.” Gerard tugged on Frank’s sleeve, trying on his best pleading expression.

“God,  _ Gerard _ ,” Frank giggled, “I gotta get my shit from my house first! I’ll be back, I promise.”

“So you’ll stay?”

“You did promise me a sleepover a bit ago.” He grinned and leaned in to kiss Gerard’s nose before skipping off to his car, happy as ever.

“You two are gross,” Mikey said from the porch swing, watching his brother sigh dreamily as his boyfriend drove away in his beat-up Honda.

“You gotta admit, he’s cute.”

Mikey made a face but didn’t comment. Gerard counted it as a win. He patted the seat next to him and Gerard sat. There was an awkward pause before he said, “So do I have to sleep in my room?”

“Uh, yeah.” Gerard scratched his head, “I’m not sure if he’s gonna want to do anything but he might. But you’re okay with that? You and Bert seem to be good.”

“Yeah, he’s cool.”

Gerard lifted an eyebrow.

“Jesus! Isn’t that necrophilia!?” Mikey turned bright red and shoved at Gerard.

Oh, this was pure joy, “Spectrophilia, actually. And no shame, Mikey, really. Bert, he’s… he’s easy on the eyes.”

“Cold, though.” He said and Gerard absolutely lost it.

“Oh my God!” He laughed, “How is that even possible?”

“What are you…” Mikey drifted off before gasping, eyes wide, “What?! You think that I - oh God.”

“Well,” Gerard scooted closer, “Did you? I don’t judge.”

He dragged a hand across his face and sighed, long and miserable. If he was having this much of a bodily reaction to such a simple question, then Gerard already knew the answer. This was fantastic, “If I tell you, you cannot tell  _ anyone _ , okay?”

“Okay.”

“…Yeah.”

Gerard had to bite his knuckle so he didn’t laugh. Mikey looked over and punched his shoulder, “Shut up!”

“I didn’t say anything!” He giggled and allowed Mikey to punch his arm till it hurt, “I just - how?”

“You want to know  _ how _ ?” He stared at Gerard incredulously, “You’re my  _ brother _ and you want to know  _ how _ ?”

Gerard just shrugged.

He sighed again, a lot less dramatic and a lot more ‘why is my life like this’. He looked up and down the block and behind him even though Mom wasn’t home yet, “He sorta walked in on me. And it got weird. Quick. It isn’t anything like you and Frank, though.”

Mildly grossed out, he asked, “Do you want it to be like me and Frank?”

He shook his head, “No. I’m not…?”  _ Gay _ , he didn’t say, “And he’s dead. One time thing. Even he said so.”

“Oh.” Gerard frowned, “Weird.”

Mikey gave him a surprised look like he hadn’t expected Gerard to react that civilly. It quickly faded, though, and he watched Frank’s car pull up, “Yeah. Weird.” 

When Frank emerged from the car, he held up his bag with a grin, “Got it! I snatched yours, too, in case you wanted it.”

“Thanks, Frankie.” He said when Frank was on the porch and pulled him close so he could press a kiss just below his ear.

“So,” he hummed, “how far away is your mom’s room from yours?”

“Frank!” He squeaked, “Oh my God… she’s on the main level.”

“All I need to know,” Frank replied.

Dinner was a little weird. When Donna realized that it was more than just her sons at the table, she went into full ‘no, call me Donna’ mode, and yucked it up on Frank’s behalf. She’d brought Chinese takeout home from a restaurant the next town over and when Frank voiced he was a vegetarian, she dug through the kitchen cupboards until she found Gerard’s hidden stash of ramen. She even  _ made it for him _ . She never made food for Gerard or Mikey. 

“So,” she grinned and looked expectantly between her sons, “Frank, huh?”

“Yeah?” He said after swallowing.

She tapped the table. The tension was as thick as her eyebrows were thin, “You a friend of Gerard and Mikey’s?”

Gerard came out to his mom some time ago and she was cool with it (for the most part) so he just rolled his eyes and squeezed Frank’s thigh, hidden under the table, “He’s my boyfriend, Ma.”

Her face lit up, “Really? Oh! Oh, I’m glad. I thought you would… well, honestly, I thought you wouldn’t even make friends here. This is good. I’m glad.”

When Gerard looked over, Frank was blushing, smiling down at his cup of noodles, “Thanks, Donna.”

She reached over and touched his shoulder, “Don’t thank me, dear. Gerard’s the one you should be thanking. He’s a picky bitch when it comes to boys.”

“Ma!” Gerard dropped his chopsticks in shock, “Remember when we talked about how to  _ not _ be brash?”

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes and was instantly the Donna that Gerard knew, taking out a cigarette and a lighter. She looked hesitantly over to Frank, “You care if I smoke?”

He shook his head and turned to face Gerard, giving him a look that clearly meant ‘your mom is awesome’. Gerard squeezed his thigh tighter in response. Well, at least it went well.

After everyone was either in their rooms or asleep, Frank looked over at Gerard with a grin on his face. Or at least it was supposed to be a grin. Frank was on Gerard’s bean bag chair, laying so he could stare at Gerard upside down. If it was a lustful leer he was trying to shoot at Gerard, it looked more like a frown that implied something. Gerard rolled his eyes and continued scrolling on his iPod. He just wanted to play some music, dammit.

But then Frank came up to him and took the iPod from Gerard’s hands, “Come on, man. We don’t need music.”

“Yes, we do. We need something else that Mikey can focus on besides the obvious.” He rolled his eyes and snatched it back, “I’m gonna put on The Bends.”

“Isn’t that album like…”

“Sad and melancholic?” He offered, “Yes. Radiohead tends to do that. But! It’s the sexist thing I’ve got.”

Frank thought it over, biting his lip. He shrugged, “Put it on shuffle.”

“Alright, give me a second.” Gerard went into the settings to change the order in which songs played but got sidetracked when Frank’s hand lightly touched the crotch of his jeans, “Frankie?”

“Hurry up.” He ordered in a thick voice and Gerard had never changed the settings and selected an album that fast. Frank placed the iPod on the bookshelf where it was connected to a speaker and grinned as Sulk started playing. His hand pressed harder and a shock of pleasure surged through Gerard. Frank pressed him against the bookshelf, palming him until he was hard and breathless.

“Frankie,” Gerard repeated.

“I like touching you.” He said, looking up at Gerard through his lashes. Oh, God, that was pure lust, “You’re just so… so willing. You just take whatever I have to offer and it’s so goddamn hot.”

Gerard groaned and tipped his head back. Frank’s hand was in his pants, keeping his touch light and teasing.

“But - but I know you’ve got something in you.” Frank breathed and huffed when Gerard giggled, “Oh, fuck you, you know what I mean. I want you, Gee. I want what you have.”

He blanked. Well, up until he realized, “You want me to be feisty?” 

Frank made a pfft noise and laughed, taking his hand out of Gerard’s pants, “Goddamn it, Gerard, be feisty.”

“I can be feisty.” He said, unsure. 

Frank seemed to notice and grabbed Gerard’s hands, putting one on the back of his neck and the other near the waistband of his pants. If Gerard had looked so open and trusting the first time, then this was what he imagined he looked like - wide, soft eyes and a smile that said more than what Frank was letting on.

“I know you can.” He whispered and Gerard kissed him.

Both of Frank’s hands found their way into Gerard’s hair, tugging lightly. Gerard slid his hands down and pushed Frank’s shirt up, touching the skin on his chest. Frank didn’t make a move like he was going to pull back and take his shirt off and Gerard realized he was being serious about the whole… feisty thing. Alright. Okay.

Gerard tugged at Frank’s shirt until he broke the kiss and pulled it over his head, leaning down to mouth at his collarbones. How could collarbones be sexy? Fuck. 

“Get on the bed,” Gerard said after licking a stripe up Frank’s neck.

The command caused a small noise to escape from Frank like he hadn’t meant for it to come out and nodded, lying back on Gerard’s bed. Gerard took his shirt and pants off, climbing on top of Frank. He maintained eye contact as he unbuttoned Frank’s jeans. He wasn’t wearing any underwear. 

“You really need to start wearing all of your clothes.” Gerard pointed out.

“Less layers to take off.” Frank defended himself, “I wanted to make it easier for you.”

“Shit,” Gerard said and leaned down once Frank’s pants were off, “What do you want me to do?”

Frank didn’t even hesitate, “Finger me.”

“Shit,” he said again, quieter. For more than one reason, he was nervous. One, he’d never, y’know,  _ fingered someone before _ . And two… well, point two was just general anxiety. He decided on saying, “Anything you want.”

“Want you.” He mumbled and pulled Gerard down so he could kiss him, deep and desperate, a colliding of mouths and tongues and broken noises. It didn’t last long, though, because seriously, what the fuck, Gerard could get off on just this.

He pulled away and reached over to the small bedside drawer where he kept his lableless materials. Totally weird that he bought them while thinking about Adam and now he was here, on top of Frank. Weird in the best way.

He held the bottle of lube in his hands with reverence and took in a breath. Long ago, before his mom and him drifted apart, she’d told him that the thing that usually fucks things up is a lack of communication. 

“I’ve… I’ve never fingered someone before.” He forced himself to look at Frank’s face, “I-I’ve tried with myself but it’s not - it’s different.”

His cheeks were ruddy and he didn’t look put off by Gerard’s honesty which, thank fuck for that, “There’s a first for everything.”

Gerard supposed that was fair, “Just… tell me what I should do. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You won’t.” He said and nodded to the tube in his hand, “You’re going to want to use that.”

He nodded and opened the top, squeezing a liberal amount onto two of his fingers. When he looked back up at Frank, unsure, he just let his thighs fall open, making Gerard draw in a quick breath. Fuck, he made it look so easy. 

“I’ve seen it,” Gerard swallowed, letting his other, non-lube-covered hand touch the inside of Frank’s thigh, “in videos.”

“What did you see? Tell me.” Frank said in a rough voice and Gerard forgot his earlier commitment to being more dominant. 

“I…” He drifted off, collecting himself and putting his hand between Frank’s thighs. Carefully, he pressed a slick finger to Frank, just to test the waters. Frank made an encouraging noise and Gerard traced his hole in a circular motion, warming up to the idea, “I saw this, the top tracing the bottom’s hole like this, getting him used to the sensation, muttering little things like ‘does it feel good? I bet it does. Look at you, all spread open for me.’”

He added in the last part himself because, fuck,  _ Frank _ . He was listening intently to what Gerard was saying, hands fisted in the sheets.

“Oh, Frankie, look at you.” He found himself saying next.

Frank was pressing down against Gerard’s fingers, his face the perfect picture of want, making small, desperate noises. He pulled away for a second, just to put more lube on his fingers and Frank looked at him like he was crazy for stopping.

Gerard put his fingers up against him again, “Can I?”

“Fuck,  _ please _ .”

Slowly, Gerard pressed into Frank, watching his face for any sign that he was hurting him. Instead, his face went from tense to blank to really fucking turned on. He was tight around Gerard’s finger but Frank pressed down again and told him to add another. He did, allowing Frank to adjust for a moment until he decided to curl his fingers upward toward Frank’s body. He’d had poor luck finding his own prostate but finding Frank’s was evidently easier because in a split second, he bucked his hips and hissed.

“Okay?” He asked.

“Oh my God,” he moaned, “Don’t stop. Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

“I won’t.” Gerard’s voice went low and rough now that he was into it. God, looking at the way Frank was whining, trying to keep quiet, and fucking himself against Gerard’s fingers was too much, “How does it feel, Frankie?”

Frank’s breath hitched, “Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck _ . Oh - so fucking good, Gee. Just -  _ God _ , your  _ hands _ .”

Just so he didn’t explode, he managed to put Frank’s leg between his own and rubbed against his thigh, getting some but not enough. He was focusing on Frank now. How Frank was laid out under him, begging, pushing against Gerard, completely hungry with it.

“Faster.” Frank panted, his eyes dark.

Gerard moaned and leaned forward, pushing his fingers in all the way, pressing harder, moving faster. Frank was shaking under him when he pressed his mouth to his neck, biting and sucking, licking at the spot that drove him crazy the first time.

“You’re so fucking good, Frankie.” He told him, “I wanna see you come. Are you going to come from just  _ this _ ?” He emphasized this by taking his fingers out just a bit and shoving them back in, making Frank whine, “I wanna see you.”

He kissed Frank's neck and sat up so he could see his face, fingering him with just about everything he had at that point. When their eyes locked, Frank’s mouth fell open with a moan and he clutched at Gerard’s arm, coming between them, “ _ Gee _ .”

“Shh,” he said a little too late. Mikey definitely heard that.

“Gee,” Frank said after he caught his breath, eyes zeroed in on where Gerard was still sort of riding his leg.

Gerard made a meaningless noise and took his fingers out of Frank. There was a brief, awkward moment of not knowing what to do, still hot and bothered, until Frank pulled Gerard up and kissed him, open-mouthed and dirty. Gerard seriously felt bad for shushing Frank when he took Gerard into his hand and started jerking him off because he couldn’t stop the loud noise he made into Frank’s mouth.

He was still on top of Frank, keeping himself upright with his elbow on the mattress. Frank took to teasing the head of his cock, kissing the life out of him. Gerard threaded his fingers through Frank’s hair and tugged.

Frank broke the kiss and bit at a spot under Gerard’s ear. Gerard said Frank’s name when he came.

…

They laid on top of the covers, hot and tired. Gerard traced the tattoos on Frank’s chest, thinking. He didn’t know what to say. They’d talked about nothing, really. Just that Frank had a few ideas for things he’d like to try in the future. He pressed his face to the crook of Frank’s neck and sighed.

“You’re the first person I’ve been with since Bert.” 

Gerard stilled, “What? Really?” Shit, that was three years ago.

Frank nodded, “I felt guilty. Like it was what got him killed.”

“It wasn’t.” He cupped Frank’s jaw, “You know it wasn’t.”

“Emphasis on ‘felt’.” He smiled, “Like fuck, man. You have no idea what kind of weight came off of my shoulders when he said he didn’t blame me.”

Gerard said, “It was a mutual decision.”

“It was.” Frank rolled onto his side and touched his forehead to Gerard’s, “Things are just starting to look up again, you know?”

“I know.” He felt warm all over, “Can you keep a secret?”

“Of course.” He said automatically.

Gerard grew quieter, hoping that Bert wasn’t listening, “Mikey had an experience with a ghostly friend of ours.”

Frank moved away to look at Gerard, “No, he didn’t.”

“Yes!” He said and giggled, “He was jerking off and Bert walked in on him. Gave him a handjob or something, I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me.”

“Oh my God,” Frank seemed a little more horrified than Gerard, “How?”

“That’s what I asked! Wouldn’t answer me on that either. Not really, anyway. Apparently it’s a ‘one-time thing’.” He shrugged a shoulder.

“That fucker gets some even when he’s  _ dead _ .” Frank snickered and clutched onto Gerard who may or may not have been giggling up a storm, “How the fuck does he do that?”

“I don’t know.” He giggled and then lifted his chin so he could kiss Frank’s stupid cute face, “I’m surprised I could do it.”

“But you aren’t dead.” Frank pointed out.

“Very true.” He paused, pressing their foreheads together again, “And you’re good? With all this?”

“It was weird at first. Totally weird.” He sighed and pulled Gerard closer, “But there’s something totally amazing about being able to clear things up with him.”

Gerard smiled to himself and brushed his thumb over the high of Frank’s cheek, “That’s good. I was worried.”

“You shouldn’t have to worry about me,” Frank mumbled, upset.

“But I do.”

“Why, though? I’m fine.” He reached up and touched the back of Gerard’s head, the touch soft and - dare he even think it - loving.

Gerard almost scoffed, “Because I care about you, asshole, that’s why. Shit’s tough, I get it.”

Frank didn’t talk for a second but he continued to play with the hair on the crown of Gerard’s head. He took in a breath and quietly said, “God, I’m so glad you got caught up in my life.”

Okay,  _ wow _ . Not what he expected at all. Fuck. What does someone even say in response to that? The only thing he can think of is some sort of ungodly noise.

In the end, he said voiced how he felt, “Fuck, Frank.”

“Too sappy?”

“No,” he said immediately, “I just… wow, y’know? I don’t know what to say.”

“So I’ve left you speechless?” He asked, the smile evident in his voice.

“Don’t make it weird.” He mumbled, “You do it a lot, I don’t know if you noticed.”

“I noticed.”

“Damn.”

…

The next morning, Gerard woke up to his mother opening the door. Thank fuck, he had blankets over him but that didn’t stop him from trying to cover himself even more. Frank, who had apparently been awake, ducked under the covers, giggling to himself while Gerard stared red-faced at his mom.

“Hey,” she said unphased, sending a smile to Frank when he peeked at her, “Mikey made pancakes.”

“Oh, shit, really?” Frank sat all the way up, zero shame at all.

“Yup.” She nodded, “You got clean clothes, sweetie? You can borrow some of Mikey’s if you need.”

“Nah, I brought my own bag.” He smiled, “Thanks, though. Mikey’s too skinny for me to fit his stuff.”

Donna laughed and ashed her cigarette in a week old cup of coffee on Gerard’s dresser, “That might be true. See you two downstairs.”

And with that, she left.

Gerard sighed and laid back down. Frank just stared at him with a smirk on his face. He was a fucking sadist - an  _ exhibitionist _ . He tried to give him his best incredulous look. Frank just rolled his eyes and poked at Gerard’s face.

“You didn’t say  _ a word _ .” He chuckled, “Your mom is so dope, dude.”

He cringed, “Please never call my mom dope ever again.”

Frank was oddly cheery for as early as it was on a Sunday. God,  _ Sunday _ . Sunday meant Monday and Monday meant having to go back to life. He’d have to buy makeup or something to cover up the marks. After some helpful encouragement of nearly shoving Gerard out of bed, he got up and threw on something clean. Despite the bag of things Frank brought, when Gerard turned around, he was going through his dresser.

“What?” He asked and threw on Gerard’s Dawn of the Dead t-shirt.

“Nothing.” He chuckled and kissed Frank’s temple, “I can’t believe Mikey made fucking pancakes.”

“Brownies  _ and _ pancakes.” Frank corrected. In the next second, he snatched Gerard by the waist and grinned, “I can’t believe you fingered me.”

He sputtered, feeling his face heat up again and he hadn’t even been awake for 20 minutes, “I - you - Frank!”

He giggled, “I’m just saying! Like, I’d done it to someone before and he had really liked it, you know? I never knew it was like that.”

Gerard watched Frank play with his right hand, “Yeah?” He said a little shakily.

“Yeah.” He made eye contact and Gerard felt hot in his gaze, “I just really like you, Gerard.  _ You _ , not just what you can do.”

“Frank.” He said and couldn’t think of anything else to say, “I like you, too.”

He expected Frank to kiss him but instead, his smile got big and warm and he wrapped his arms around him and held on tight.

“Sometimes you make me feel like jello,” Frank said into Gerard’s shoulder.

“Jello.” Gerard agreed, “That’s the most accurate way to describe it.”

When they hadn’t even made it all the way downstairs, Mikey shouted that their pancakes were in the kitchen, take as many as you want. Frank just shrugged and raced Gerard down the stairs. Which, okay, totally unfair. That fucker was fast. 

“Don’t break anything!” Donna shouted when Gerard ran bodily into the pantry, having slid because of his socks.

“Does she mean objects or bones?” Frank asked, already putting food on his plate.

Gerard rubbed at his hip, “Both.”

It was really intimate for some reason. Frank had spent the night and now they were having breakfast - fucking  _ pan _ cakes - for their morning after. Well, it wasn’t really like that but… whatever. And when Gerard was heating up the syrup in the microwave, Frank’s hand rubbed lightly at the hip he’d smashed into the pantry. It was a little too much but also not enough. Man, he was so far gone that it wasn’t even funny.

The veil of intimacy tore the second he saw Bert sitting at the dining table. Mikey was sitting next to him, still in his pajamas, and Donna was sitting at the head of the table reading the paper like some kind of movie. Bert was busy watching Mikey but as soon as Gerard blocked the doorway, he looked up.

“Hey, guys.” He gave Gerard a look that meant he knew exactly what they’d done last night.

He was past embarrassment, though, and looked to his mother for an explanation. She merely smiled at him.

In the end, Mikey rolled his eyes, “Bert’s a peeping tom. Mom’s known for a few days, now.”

“You peeped on my mom?” Gerard asked, “Seriously, my  _ mom _ ?”

He shrugged, “She forgives me.” 

He looked back at Donna.

“Eat your breakfast before it gets cold.” She told him, turning the page.

“What fucking timeline am I in?” Frank said from behind Gerard. He moved to sit down so Frank could actually enter the room.

Gerard watched Frank sit next to him, in front of Bert. They shared a look that Gerard couldn’t decipher and ate in relative silence. For it being so fucking weird, it had this sense of normalcy. There was Frank and Gerard and… oh,  _ shit. _ Gerard tapped the table lightly so Mikey would look up from his plate. When they made eye contact, he looked to Bert with a quirk in his brow. Mikey’s mouth twitched at the corner. He sat back in his seat. One time thing, his  _ ass _ . 

“You boys have any plans today?” Donna asked, seemingly bored with her paper.

Gerard could  _ not _ do small talk right now, Jesus fuck, “Uh, not really.”

“I think I’m just gonna stay home,” Bert said, prompting Frank to laugh, shrinking back in his seat when no one else did.

“Yeah, same here.” Mikey shrugged a shoulder.

Oh, well, of course. Mikey sent Gerard a look as if he could read his mind. Frank brushed shoulders with Gerard, “I think we might go back to my place for lunch.”

“As long as he’s back for dinner,” she warned, no malice in her voice, “School nights are sacred.”

Gerard laughed into his hand.

“You’re grumpy when you don’t sleep.” She shrugged.

“It’s true.” Frank agreed, smirking when everyone looked at him, “He’s a nightmare to get up in the morning.”

Donna gestured to Frank, “See?”

“Just because you have the boyfriend’s seal of approval doesn’t mean anything,” Gerard mumbled into his slightly room temperature coffee.

…

They didn’t do anything back at Frank’s house. Gerard mostly sat on the kitchen counter and watched Frank tidy up around the apartment, picking up this, throwing away that, tossing dirty clothes at Gerard. He wasn’t too bothered by it, though. He mostly threw stuff when Gerard zoned out staring idly at nothing, sometimes at Frank, but mostly at nothing. He still had a shirt on his head when Frank came in to sweep the kitchen floor.

“God, look at you.” Frank sighed, broom in hand. He sort of leaned against it, gazing adoringly at Gerard, “Perfect picture of misery.”

He rolled his eyes when Frank came over to take the shirt off of his head and throw it somewhere behind him, “I’m not miserable.”

“You look pretty miserable.” He shrugged, leaning on the counter and taking Gerard’s hand.

He put his hand over their interlocked fingers, “I’m just thinkin’.”

“Indulge me?”

Gerard huffed out a laugh, “Not about anything specifically. About a lot of things. Friends, family. Ghosts.”

They met eyes and shared a smile.

“I… I’m not entirely sure what I feel most of the time. About Bert. He’s a really nice guy but I don’t think I’ve entirely digested the fact that-that someone killed him.” Gerard looked back down to their hands, “And I saw it happen.”

“So did I.”

With a grimace, he said, “Sorry. I try not to bring it up with you.”

“Well, I don’t want you to keep it all harbored in there.” He used his free hand to poke lightly at Gerard’s chest, making him laugh, “I know you’ve got things you want to ask, things you wanna say. So talk, Gee. I want to listen.”

When he looked up, that perfect picture of misery was no longer him but Frank. He smiled sadly and reached up to pat lightly at his cheek before pulling him awkwardly into his arms. The height difference didn’t matter, though, because Frank laughed softly against his chest.

“Come on,” Gerard moved to get off of the counter, “you can sweep later.”

They didn’t talk until they were both under the fleece blanket on Frank’s bed, warm and holding onto one another. Gerard almost didn’t want to talk; he just wanted to lay there and forget and just be content but Frank was waiting patiently for Gerard to speak, brushing the hair from his face.

“Adam,” he started, “I don’t know how I feel about Adam, knowing what he did. And reflecting on the things we did before I knew all this, it seems weird. It’s almost as if it didn’t harm his conscience at all. Like he accidentally hit a squirrel or something.”

His hand slid down from Gerard’s face to his arm. He sighed, “Yeah. We haven’t talked about it. He isn’t really impacted by it like me and he dated the guy. I… I used to cry over Bert’s things, no matter who watched me. But Adam didn’t even so much as act like he was upset.”

Gerard let himself hold on tighter, “Is it bad that I’m scared?”

“I’m still scared of Adam.”

Gerard placed his head on Frank’s chest and closed his eyes. He was afraid it was like that.

“The things he said to me… Gerard, if he knew that you knew? I don’t want to know what would happen.”

He squeezed his eyes shut tight, “Don’t say that, Frank.”

“Sorry,” he apologized. After a pause, he said, “What if we… ditched?”

Gerard moved so he could look at him, “What do you mean?”

“I mean—you graduate early, don’t you?” He asked.

“Uh, yeah?” He hadn’t told Frank about graduating early. He wondered who told him.

“Well, once the semester is over, what if we moved? Went back to Jersey? I still have a bunch of friends and family out there.” Frank spoke hurriedly like the idea would explode in his mind if he didn’t get it out fast enough.

Gerard sat up so he could look at him, “You’re serious? Frank—”

“I know! It’s crazy.”

He sighed. It wasn’t  _ too _ crazy. He’d thought of elaborate schemes to move back to Jersey before but he didn’t know Frank all that well. They’d only been officially together for a few days.

“It’s not that, Frank. It’s just… I haven’t even met your  _ mom _ .”

He blinked, “Do you  _ want  _ to meet my mom?”

With a huff, Gerard sat up, “I just—I want to leave with all my heart, believe me, but I barely know you.”

Frank glared, “You know that’s not true.”

“I know only the bad stuff.” He looked down at his lap. Frank took his hand, as if the lack of contact made him nervous, “Maybe it’s just me, though. I like to know useless stuff about people.”

“No, you’re right.” He rubbed circles onto the back of Gerard’s hand, “We can… meet my mom, I guess. There’s a lot of useless stuff she would tell you. I can call her real quick?”

In most movies that Gerard had seen, meeting someone’s parents was this big thing. He never understood it. Maybe it was like this big ‘going steady’ type thing. He had never gone steady with anyone in his life. Should he be worried?

“Should I be worried?” He blurted, “Meeting her? Is it too soon? Like isn’t it some sort of taboo—”

“Gee!” Frank giggled, shushing him, “Dude, it’s just my mom.”

He asked lamely, “Is she cool?” 

Frank stifled his laughter but grinned at him, “She’s cool. Not as cool as Mrs. I-Just-Saw-My-Son’s-Boyfriend-Completely-Naked-In-His-Bed Way.”

Gerard nearly choked, “I would like to forget about that please!”

“Hilarious. I mean it was hilarious once I realized she was cool about it. Has that ever happened before?”

“Never. And never again.” He shot a glance in Frank’s direction.

He just giggled, though, and got up. Gerard heard his voice in the kitchen, on the phone, “Hey, mom. No, I’m not dying.”

…

Linda Iero was most definitely a character. He supposed most moms from Jersey were but from the moment he met her, he knew she was different. She had big hair like it was the 80s and a sweet, slightly raspy voice.

“Gosh, he really is cute.” Linda had said to Frank when she had invited them inside and introduced herself by hugging him tightly and saying that he could call her ‘ma’ if he wanted to.

Mostly due to nerves, he had agreed, hearing Frank snickering behind him.

Apparently, Frank kept in frequent contact with his mom because she was asking him about stuff he only remembered mentioning once to Frank. She seemed to be really invested in what Gerard wanted to do after high school, asking about colleges and applications and scholarships. 

“Well, I put in an application to this one in New York? I would really like to do comics and stuff. Maybe write a novel. I’m really interested in that type of stuff.” He shrugged, “I do have a couple of plan Bs in Jersey, though, so I won’t be bummed if I don’t get in.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will.” She grinned from her spot on the recliner. Frank and Gerard were on the couch, huddling close together. She watched Frank’s hand squeeze Gerard’s knee, “How long have you two been together again?”

“Uh, a few days?” Frank smiled guiltily.

“A few days!?” Linda sat up, “Gerard, honey, you better not be pregnant!”

Gerard cracked up, leaving Frank to fend for himself against his own mother. Frank explained to her that the reason he brought Gerard so early was that Gerard wanted to get to know him better.

“By meeting me?” She asked Gerard, “No offense, sweetie, but that’s a little odd.”

He sighed, “I know it is. It’s just… I like to know the simplest stuff about people. I know all the bad stuff that happened in this town but I wanna know like-like what Frank’s favorite cereal is and the movie he watched nonstop when he was 13.”

Next to him, Frank pinched his thigh, “That’s specific.”

“It’s also  _ really _ endearing.” Linda leaned forward in her seat, sending a look to her son, “And to answer those for you: Trix and Ghostbusters.”

“ _ Ma _ ,” Frank gave her an incredulous look but she ignored him.

“Why don’t you give Gerard a tour of the house?” She offered.

“I-” He looked between Gerard and Linda before nodding, “Yeah, okay.”

Frank got up and took Gerard’s hand, leading him up a set of stairs. It wasn’t like the house tour he got at the party; Frank gestured to random things and said what laid behind what door and what belonged to whom. Gerard didn’t mind, he wasn’t upset by it or confused, not really. Frank usually stressed what needed to be stressed. Eventually, they came upon his room.

“So, um,” he paused, his hand on the door handle, “she kinda left it like I had it in high school.”

“That’s fine.” Gerard shrugged. He could get why Frank was being hesitant, it was kind of an intimate thing, “I don’t judge.”

He nodded, “Alright.”

His room wasn’t anything exciting. There was a small mattress, a couple posters, and a desk with some scattered papers on it. Gerard watched Frank sit on the bed. He gave him a look that said ‘go on’ and he took the opportunity to snoop around a bit. He didn’t dig through his stuff but did take a peek at some of the papers on the desk, not really reading them when they turned out to be some kind of writing. Poetry, maybe. He looked up at the posters on the walls and made eye contact with a framed picture of Frank, Bert, and Adam. They were all wearing different Halloween costumes, grinning big and bright. He smiled sadly at it.

“Halloween is my birthday,” Frank said unprompted.

“That’s awesome.” He replied earnestly.

The atmosphere felt weird and he didn’t exactly know why. He sent a second glance to the photo before awkwardly sitting next to Frank. He wondered why Linda wanted him to give Gerard a tour. Maybe it was to get the two of them away from her, maybe she just thought it would answer some of Gerard’s questions. More or less, it just gave him a general idea of what it was like to be a teenage Frank.

Seemingly, Frank knew how to read minds because he said, “This is weird.”

“Yeah.” He laughed, “I  _ feel  _ weird.”

He put his hand on the bed, palm facing up. Gerard held it. There was a pause before Frank spoke again, “Geoff texted me last night.”

“What’d he say?”

He snickered, “Asked if you were single.” 

Gerard looked away, feeling his face heat up, “Fucking hell. Geoff Rickly.”

“It’s kinda cute.” He shrugged.

“I guess.” He mumbled.

Frank just giggled at Gerard’s misfortune and squeezed his hand. When Gerard finally gathered the courage to look up at him, he was still smiling but less like an idiot and more like he wanted to kiss his face off. It was still so new to Gerard. How could someone like him like that? Fuck, he didn’t want to know. And he didn’t want to dwell on it.

“You know what I think?” He said in a soft voice, “I think you’re cute.”

“Frankie…” he sighed, not knowing what else to say other than, “Thank you.”

He leaned in and made a happy sort of noise. Gerard watched Frank close his eyes and that made him chuckle, leaning in to close the gap, kissing him slowly. This might be new but it was something he could get used to. He reached up and brushed his fingers over the high of Frank’s cheek, smiling when Frank sighed. Gerard wasn’t entirely sure what noise he heard behind him but it wasn’t anything to make him stop his actions. Noises he could deal with, but the feeling of being watched was not. 

He broke the kiss and looked out Frank’s window. There was nothing out there except for a tree and some dead grass. He turned back to Frank who had, quite possibly, the most embarrassed look on his face. Gerard followed his eyes to see Frank’s mother standing in the doorway with a soft look on her face.

“That’s one way to show him around, I suppose.” She chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. There was a small pause before she said, kind of quietly, “Does he know?’’

“He does, Ma.”

“Well,” she started, looking at Gerard, “it’s just good to see you with someone again, especially with all you’ve been through.”

Frank made a low sound in his throat, “It’s, uh, it’s good for me, too.”

…

School was an adventure to come back to. Ray had cornered Gerard in his own home when he picked the Way brothers up for school and basically fawned over him until he was certain that Gerard was in one piece and unharmed. He did make a stupid comment about a particularly purple collarbone but otherwise seemed that Frank was worthy of living another day. Bob had been about the same but less touchy and more verbal, asking questions a million miles a minute and demanding Gerard tell him if Frank was a top or a bottom because he ‘had money on it’. Gerard told him to shove his money up his ass because there was  _ no way _ he was telling. He then tried to ask Gerard what  _ his  _ position was, thinking he could find out that way but was simply disappointed when Gerard belatedly told him he was a switch.

Lindsey had been different in quite a sweet way. She kissed his cheek and his hands and talked to him about his weekend for most of math and all of lunch, boring the shit out of Jennifer and making Gerard choke on his milk when she said the word ‘feisty’.

“I know it was literally a weekend but,” Ray said, standing near the doors before his next class, “I’m glad you’re back. I was so worried about you and Frank and… well, yeah. I’m sorry. From before.”

Gerard smiled, “You’re fine, man. And  _ no _ , I don’t need a ride. Go to class. Frank’s picking me up.”

“Oh, in that case.” He gave Gerard the sleaziest wink  _ ever _ and giggled on his way back to class, not turning around to see Gerard’s halfhearted middle finger.

He loved Frank and all but he seriously needed to hang out with Ray. Just the two of them. Maybe go see a movie or something. Oh, or maybe watch one of Gerard’s old gore flicks. He seemed to be the type to like that stuff. He hiked his backpack up his shoulder and left when he saw Ray turn the corner. 

Outside, a big van sat in front of the school. Gerard stopped in his tracks, leaning over to see just Adam in the cab. He slowly approached and startled when Adam went to roll down the passenger side window.

“Hey,” he said with a grin, “Frank’s waiting for us in the cemetery. James said he’s gonna bring this new energy drink he found in the backroom of the grocery store. Apparently it's illegal in Europe?”

Gerard relaxed at that. If they were going to meet Frank and James at their usual hang out spot, then they were totally cool, “Really?” He asked, climbing into the van.

“He said he could taste the color purple or something.” Adam giggled and brushed a piece of hair behind his ear.

Gerard told Adam about his school day, the many kisses he received from Lindsey, and the clusterfuck that had been Bob that morning in art class. Adam laughed along and told him similar anecdotes about James and Frank. It was weird to hear about Frank from Adam because he knew there was a fourth member of the cast that he wasn’t mentioning. Gerard tried to focus on Adam, a big grin on his face as he described a particularly graphic camping trip.

The laugh that escaped him quickly faded when they passed the cemetery that they usually hung out at. He didn’t see anyone there other than the caretaker but a strange feeling settled in the van. They were probably just going to hang out at the bigger one. The older cemetery was fun to just chill and stuff but… it just seemed weird to go to the newer one. 

“-so that’s why James has a scar on his eyebrow.” Adam finished and Gerard offered - what he assumed was - a realistic laugh. He seemed to buy it, “Frankie’s always been a little wack when it comes to hot and sharp objects. He set anything on fire around you, yet?”

Gerard thought, “He almost let a glass of milk explode in the microwave.”

Adam snickered, “Probably got distracted by you.”

“What? Like I’m hot shit?” He rolled his eyes.

He bumped Gerard with his elbow, “You’re an absolute  _ dreamboat _ .”

He laughed the first real laugh and swatted at him, “God, shut up!”

When they got to the cemetery, Frank and James weren’t there yet. Adam shot James a text, asking when they’d get there while they stood outside the gates. Gerard fidgeted nervously and turned down the cigarette that Adam offered him. He didn’t know why he was so fucking nervous. It felt like they were going to do some kind of ritual or something. Maybe Adam wanted to dabble in necromancy. Gerard was sure Bert would  _ love _ that. Fuck.

“Let’s just go in.” Adam sighed and kicked at a rock, “We can warm up the grass while they take their sweet ass time.”

“Okay.” Gerard nodded.

Gerard thought that maybe they’d chill by the mausoleum like they had last time or maybe even sit by this really cool looking moss-covered bench near a weeping angel but he was poorly mistaken. Slowly but surely they made it to the very back of the cemetery and Gerard heard the sound of a nearby river, rushing past. He stopped in his tracks, feeling like his brain was short-circuiting. Adam seemed to notice and grabbed Gerard’s hand, an inappropriately soft expression on his face.

“Come on, man. I wanna show you something.” He said and Gerard felt his feet move despite himself.

Adam held back blackberry branches and when Gerard’s eyes fell upon the ravine, it felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He was standing exactly where Bert died. Where Adam pushed him. He didn’t know how long he stared at the rushing water, all of his senses tuning into the sound it made, the dread it filled him with, but when he heard Adam shuffle next to him, he looked up.

His arms were at his sides. He looked oddly calm. 

There was a gun in his hand.

Gerard opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. He took a step backward and felt the wet grass soak into his converse.

“I thought maybe… maybe we could get along. Especially the first day we met.” Adam was saying but all Gerard heard was white noise, “I thought, ‘hey, maybe something good can come after tragedy’ but apparently history repeats itself. I grow attached, I think I’ve found myself a pretty stand up guy, and he ends up going for my best friend instead.”

“Adam,” Gerard finally found his voice, staring at the gun in his hand.

“I thought about killing Frankie,” he was looking down at the gun in his hand, “but I couldn’t. If I did that, people would get suspicious. And plus, I love him too much to do that. But you? I don’t know a damn thing about you.”

“Adam,  _ please _ , I - me and Frank - we aren’t-” Gerard stuttered, taking another step backward when Adam started forward.

“Cut the bullshit, Gerard! I saw you!” Adam lashed out and pointed with his gun, back toward the cemetery, “I saw you in Frankie’s bedroom, making out. And - and I ran into your brother.”

He felt like he was going to throw up. Sure, losing his own life would suck ass but Mikey? A bitter sting of anger grabbed the back of his neck with thick fingers, “You stay the fuck away from my brother.”

“Oh, baby Mikey?” Adam said, “He told me that he wasn’t in the house the other night because he could hear you guys  _ fucking _ in the other room. So don’t hit me with that ‘we aren’t’ horseshit.”

“We - I,” Gerard took in a breath, “Adam, we were never together.”

“What did I-”

“Not me and Frank, you and I.” He tried to explain the best he could, “We were never together.”

Adam stopped his pursuit forward and Gerard didn’t even have time to be mollified. He raised the gun, pointed directly at Gerard’s chest, “So what? You kissed me, led me on for the hell of it?”

“That’s not - Adam, I thought it was just a one-time thing! You were bored!” He was moving toward the trunk of a tree, his feet slipping on wet, exposed roots.

“Don’t fucking tell me how I felt!” He shouted at Gerard, “You don’t know the last thing about how I feel!”

Gerard’s back hit the rough wood. The last thing he could remember for a while was the sound of rushing water, the palms of his hands digging into the wood, and the sharp, sudden sound of a gun firing. Gerard shut his eyes, the breath trapped in his lungs. 

Silence.

It wasn’t until Gerard heard a blood curdling, nearby scream that he opened his eyes. The gun was on the forest floor, covered in blood. Adam stood over the gun, holding his hand away from his body and watching the blood from a circular wound drip onto it. 

Gerard made a noise like he was dying and lost his footing, sliding down the tree, and roughly landing on his ass. How could he have missed that badly? How could - how could - 

Gerard watched as Bert appeared from behind Adam, looking the coldest, and deadliest he had ever looked. Instead of feeling saved, he felt even more trapped, like he was about to watch the death of another friend. He’d already experienced death through a memory, he didn’t want to witness it first hand. He tried to stand but his palms slid on the slick roots. After a brief moment of scuffling, he gave up and watched as Bert and Adam met eyes.

“What the fuck?” He asked, his eyes wide and mouth open, looking both in pain and very, very terrified.

“I would say it’s good to see you,” Bert started, “But it’s really not.”

“B-Bert?”

“Gerard, call the police.” Bert directed him without looking, staring at Adam with a cold disinterest, “I’m not letting you fuck up a second time, you fucking  _ wench _ .”

“ _ What _ ?!” Adam was starting to look pale.

Bert sent a look to Gerard and he finally fumbled for his hoodie pockets, taking out his phone and frantically dialing 911. He wasn’t even sure he was saying words correctly when he responded to the operator. 

“Will you be okay if the call were to end?”

Gerard stared at Bert and the way Adam stared at him, the blatant terror on his face.

“Yes.”

As soon as the call ended, he immediately threw up into the bushes, his whole body feeling like it was vibrating. He was shaking, gagging, choking, and he wanted nothing more than to go home, to see his brother and make sure he was okay. A soft hand touched his shoulder when he sat up. Bert gave him a tiny smile and disappeared into thin air, a paramedic coming through the bushes and spotting the two of them: Gerard next to a pile of his own vomit, looking terrified and Adam bleeding over his gun, looking just about the same. 

“Jesus Christ,” a cop said when he entered the scene.

The paramedics escorted Adam away from the ravine and one stayed behind to make sure Gerard was okay, mostly flashing a light in his eyes and diagnosing him with nothing but shock. She led him away with a hand on his arm. He stared at nothing until they made it back to the cemetery gates where he saw a familiar car and tore away from the woman, rushing over to where Frank was standing. He noticed Gerard the same time Gerard noticed him and pushed through the small crowd to get to him. When they met, Gerard wrapped his arms around him, clutching onto his shirt and trying to ground himself. He’d just witnessed a man shoot himself in the hand on the account of ghostly interference. 

Frank touched the back of Gerard’s head, “I thought it had happened again. I heard - someone said there was an incident in the cemetery and I - fuck. Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

Gerard buried his face into Frank’s neck and didn’t say anything for a long time.

…

He’d never had so many strangers in his living room before. Most of them were police, asking him for a statement but there were various people that had somehow, for some reason been invited inside. There was Mikey, across the room, whispering definitely not to himself; Mrs. Call Me Linda Iero, hovering near the recliner; Donna Way, smoking a cigarette inside and shaking in her spot in the said recliner; Ray and Bob, standing near the couch with pale expressions; and Frank, hand in Gerard’s, seemingly catatonic while Gerard relayed the events.

“And he just shot himself in the hand?” The officer asked, looking up from his notepad.

On the coffee table was a microphone, recording all of it. Gerard sent it a brief glance, “Like I said, I thought he was going to shoot me. I wasn’t really looking at him.”

“What were you doing, then?”

“I, uh,” Gerard looked up at Frank and he simply blinked back, “I was up against a tree.”

“So, what did you do when you realized that he hadn’t shot you?” He asked.

Gerard felt like he had already told him a hundred times what had happened. He had to leave Bert out of it, obviously. He wasn’t entirely sure how ‘a ghost shot him in the hand’ would go down. He wondered what Adam had said to the officials once they bandaged him up.

“Derek, if you keep asking him the same questions, he’s going to implode.” Another officer cut in. A blonde with a sharp gaze. She looked at Gerard and kneeled by the recorder, shutting it off, “Your story and the Lazzara kid’s match up. We’ll keep in contact with you.”

“I don’t want to press charges.” Gerard blurted.

“What?!” Frank snapped, “What the fuck!?”

“Frank-” Linda started to say but the blonde officer waved a hand.

“With all due respect, Mr. Way, he tried to kill you. This isn’t a civil dispute. I’m gonna have to side with your boyfriend, here.” She pocketed the recorder and stood up, “He had every intention of murdering you. He admitted to it, if you’d like to see the transcript.”

“Sorry, yeah - I… not thinking.” He sent a timid glance to Frank and said in a much softer voice, “Sorry.”

The officer simply sent him a small smile and said, “We’ll keep in contact, Mr. Way.” before going over to his mother to discuss something that made his ears bleed. 

It was like the ravine again. Everything blended together until it was this high pitched ringing in his ears, loud and incessant. He bolted up and the room around him stilled like they were waiting for a reason for his actions. He simply looked at the faint glimmer of Bert near the window and covered his mouth so no one could hear the whimper that threatened to tear out of him. He rushed out the back door and into the backyard, quickly being followed by his friends.

There was too much inside of him: this everflowing longing for being back home in Jersey, this newfound love-hate for Oregon, and the stench of potential (and successful) death in the air. He hated it. He hated it. He fucking  _ hated  _ it. He wanted nothing more than to - to  _ scream _ . Or something!

“Gerard.” 

“Don’t fucking talk to me.” Gerard pulled at his hair and watched the air next to Mikey slowly fade into Bert.

“I saved your life.”

“Yeah. Thanks, by the way.” He chuckled and felt crazy doing it. It was either laughing or crying he supposed, “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Sorry, Bert.”

“Dude, it’s okay.” 

“Uh?” Ray said and Gerard turned to see him staring directly at Bert.

Gerard sighed and gestured to where Bob and Ray were standing, “Nice fucking going.”

“Quit being a bitch, Gerard.” He rolled his eyes.

“You… Bert? You’re dead?” Ray’s eyes looked like moons at that point.

“I’m not a bitch.” He told Bert

“Pleasure to see you.” He did a sarcastic bow at the scared teenagers, “And you are a bit of a bitch.”

He extended a finger and felt at a loss for words before saying, “Yeah, well, you’re fucking my brother.” 

“I went to your funeral.” Bob said, “You’re a ghost?”

“Did I mention he’s fucking my brother?” Gerard lifted his hands up in defeat and let Bert explain to the two who were out of the loop that he was, in fact, dead.

Slowly but surely, Frank pulled Gerard away from the chaos and toward Mikey. They all sat on the back porch steps and watched the scene unfold. Ray looked marginally less terrified but still wacked out of his mind. Bob went back to looking indifferent and maybe even had the hint of a smile on his face. A hand fell upon Gerard’s knee but it wasn’t Frank, it was Mikey, leaning in to talk to him.

“He’s not fucking me.” He said and Gerard’s face must’ve given him away because Mikey laughed.

“I don’t want to know who tops, okay.” He pretended to gag and caught Mikey’s eye. They burst into laughter after a second and for a moment, maybe it felt like it’d be okay. Just a little bit.

…

The false security didn’t last through the night. Gerard couldn’t sleep, especially with Bert popping into his room every now and again to check up on him and Mikey who was usually asleep next to him. Frank, he forgot to mention, was  _ also _ there, asleep on Gerard’s beanbag, his head against the side of Gerard’s bed. He’d fallen asleep holding his hand. Earlier that night, after dinner, he had promised he’d go home eventually but ultimately stayed, somehow comfortable despite the way his spine was sitting.

Why did it have to happen this way? Why couldn’t he have simply met Frank at his job? Why couldn’t he have met Frank  _ in Jersey _ ? Why did he have to get caught up in a murder and nearly get killed  _ himself _ ? It didn’t make sense. None of it did. He’d always believed in fate, he supposed, but fate was a fucking bitch. He was still processing it. He didn’t really want to process it if he was honest. If he looked into it, he felt like he was going to cry. 

He’d hoped to go about the rest of his senior year with ease. To graduate early and go back to Jersey, maybe move in with that old friend of his until he could start classes at any of the art schools he sent an application to. He had wanted to not grow attached to the town or anyone in it. He’d wanted to just  _ get over it _ . He didn’t - he hadn’t -

Fuck. There it was.

He wiped at his face but it just kept coming, this deep-seated pain of not wanting to feel, to just go through life passively. He liked Adam. He was cool, he was sweet, he was charming, he was a fucking  _ amazing _ kisser! But he killed someone. Someone he cared about a lot. He’d threatened Gerard’s life and he nearly lost it at Adam’s hand. He could be dead right now. He could be a corpse in the morgue, getting an autopsy. Or he could’ve ended up like Bert. He’d be another body to add to the legend of the house on Cherry Street. He could be missing. His brother and his mom could be up, waiting for him to come home. What if he hadn’t come home? What would happen to Mikey? To his mom? To Frank? 

“Gerard?” Came a tired voice next to him.

He’d woken Frank up. Shit.

Trying to hide the fact he was fucking sobbing into his pillow was useless, “Sorry.”

“No,” he sat up and squeezed his hand before letting go. Frank knelt by the side of the bed and brushed Gerard’s hair from his face, “Don’t apologize.”

Gerard stared up at him in the dark of his bedroom and couldn’t think of anything else but him. When he was around Frank, it was better. Not just the whole thing with Adam. All of it was better. He didn’t know relationships were supposed to be like that.

“Frank,” he rubbed his eye and tried to keep quiet, “I’ll do it.”

“Do what, Gee?” He asked, stroking his cheek.

“I’ll move back to Jersey with you.”


End file.
